


God, I Hate Rita Skeeter

by LishDacey394



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of miscommunication, Attempt at Humor, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Nobody really knows what to do with themselves, Poor Fred's just confused, Teen Angst, mostly canon deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LishDacey394/pseuds/LishDacey394
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alright... how do I say this briefly? My name is Alisha Dacey, and my friend Amber and I were left out of the Harry Potter books. Oh, and by the way, they were written by Rita Skeeter (or, the bane of my existence). So, here's the truth. This, my friends, is what really happened, my side of the story. I've a lot to cover, so it may take a while, but it needs to get out there. One more thing: if you're one of the seven people out there who will *always* hate Severus Snape, consider yourself warned that he's in here a good deal. I really don't care about any nasty comments you may leave. Thanks! Enjoy the truth!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Note to the Reader

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to The Truth! Today I'm going to post both the Note to the Reader (I'm so sorry, but there was just so much to explain, please don't hate or leave me I tried to make it interesting I promise) and (probably) tomorrow the first chapter. I'll try to post once a week on the weekends. 
> 
> I own none of these characters except for Alisha (aka moi) and Amber. And any other character who didn't show up in the series (duh). Throughout this work, I've used quotes directly from (or based on those from) the Harry Potter series, all of which I do not own. Don't sue me please. Or Crucio me. It's happed before, and it really hurts (the Crucio, not the suing, although I imagine that hurts too).
> 
> This work is dedicated to Amber, always. You encouraged me to write this work, even under the threat of Rita Skeeter. Thank you.

Hello, witches, wizards, Muggles, and Squibs, my name is Alisha Dacey. Yes, _the_ Alisha Dacey. What? You don't know my name? Of course you don't. That's why I'm writing this.

I'm going to assume that, If you're reading this, you have read the Harry Potter books (or at least seen the movies). Or, if you've done neither of those, you at least know his name. You probably even know the names of some of his friends: Ron... Hermione... maybe even Neville. But Lish? Nobody knows me. Let me tell you why.

I followed closely at the heels of the Golden Trio: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. I wasn't exactly part of the group, but I was very close to it; I was better friends with them than even Neville Longbottom or Luna Lovegood. Because of this, in my "fourth" year, when Rita Skeeter went on her initial life-ruining spree, she decided to interview me (and my friend Amber, who was with me at the time) to learn as much as she could about The Boy Who Was Chosen Out of the Goblet. Thanks to Rita, the interview went south. We threatened her, and she promised never to give us fame. Looking back on it, the whole ordeal is quite amusing, and an account is held within this work.

So how do some idiot journalist's half-hearted threats relate to my lack of fame? Simple. Some time after the Battle of Hogwarts but before the _Philosopher's Stone_ was released, Rita published a book which questioned, or more like attacked, Professor McGonagall's loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix. It caused a huge uproar, and Rita (who, if you hadn't noticed, I lovingly call by her first name) was practically excommunicated from the wizarding world. Unable to get a Muggle job, she ran into financial problems. So, she turned to what she did "best:" writing. She thought up the pseudonym "J.K. Rowling," and you know what happens next. World fame, first billionaire author, yada, yada, yada. Well that, folks, is because the story is TRUE. Nobody can think up a world that detailed! She did, however, think up ways to cut me - and Amber - out.

So why, you ask, am I writing the groundbreaking truth as a meer fanfiction? The threat of Rita Skeeter (or should I say J.K. Rowling), of course! I've seen some of the spells she can cast, and although my mentor had more than a toe dipped into the Dark Arts (and taught me well), I have a feeling that my BFF Rita was as some point involved with them first-hand. I hope and belive that if my story is written as a fanfiction, ol' Rita will think that less people will believe it, and I will be considered to be less of a threat to her series. Well, let me tell you something, Rita: there's more than one unregistered Animagus in the world, and unless I failed fourth grade biology (I didn't), I'm pretty sure that birds can eat beetles. When it comes down to your physical safety, I certainly am a threat.

Oh yes, there are a few more things I must explain before I begin my story:

Don't worry, I'll tell an actual story. If there's one thing I've always loved, it's writing (the one thing Muggle schooling ever taught me).

Everyone with half a brain knows that Rita Skeeter is the cause of all seemingly unrelated problems on Earth, and I aspire to properly thank her for those things. This "fan""fiction" will be peppered with "Thanks a lot, Rita"s.

Some time before I was conviced to write this, I was given a journal of Fred Weasley's. I will be using that (sorry, Fred) plus a few interviews with George to write Fred's point of view (and I won't indicate when the POV changes, just cuz I don't feel like it, not to mention that I'm evil and sadistic). Reading his journal, I realized how many opportunities I missed when I was young. Thanks a lot, Rita.

I know that in Rita's series, Fred and George are two years above the Golden Trio at Hogwarts. Here's the scoop: she lied. They're actually only one year ahead. I am lead to believe that she did this to create a rift between the twins and the nonexistent me. I don't know. She's Rita. She can do whatever she pleases. Unfortunately, this causes complications for your minds (which are accustomed to Rita's timeline), especially when it comes to people such as Cho Chang (the pathetic excuse for a Ravenclaw). We'll cross those bridges when we get there.

I'm warning you now (as I warned in the summary) that if you submerge yourself in the deep, dark sea that is this work, you won't be coming up for air for a long time. My story is a long one, and it's not pleasant at all times. Fourth year: Great! Normal teenage drama! Yule Ball! Fun! After fourth year: Death! Torture! Sirius Black meets the Department of Mysteries! Fun for the sadistic mind (or, most people of this Earth)!

Just a warning.

Up until this point, I've assumed that you know much less about the wizarding world than you probably actually do. From now on, I'm not going to explain anything, because I honestly actually don't feel like it. You're on your own, _amigos_.

I tried, as I wrote this, to put myself back into the mindset I was in at the time of the events, but I found that I couldn't get rid of my sass 100%. Please take into consideration that I have lost my mentor, my love, and two of my father figures long before their time, three of them on the same night. Attitude=justified.

Sorry for the long _Note to the Reader_ , and I hope you enjoy (and believe) the truth.


	2. "The Watch" -Lish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? Turns out that I'm posting the first (actual) chapter tonight! You lucky people. 
> 
> P.S.- If you didn't read the Note to the Reader because it's "too long" or you "didn't feel like it," please do it now. I am NOT explaining any of that again. Thanks!

"Stop it, Fawkes!" I scolded, aggravated. The bright red Phoenix was perched on my left shoulder, purposefully tickling my ear with his feathers. Each time I swatted him away, he flew around the Headmaster's office for a few seconds before perching once again on my shoulder.

"Fawkes, leave her alone," said Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (a full name that I am only saying because it's awesome) in a stern voice. Fawkes reluctantly flew off of me, but only to alight a few seconds later on my shoulder and continue pestering me. Dumbledore sighed in defeat.

"Now, Alisha, why had I called you into my office? Ah, yes, I remember." His usually amiable face turned cold. "We need to talk about your lessons with Professor Snape. In particular, I would like to call to mind the, um, _special ability_ which he has helped you to learn."

My heart began to race. Nobody could know about that! How did Dumbledore find out? Oh, Lord, if he knew all the things Snape taught me, I would certainly be expelled and Snape fired, maybe even thrown into Azkaban.

Fawkes, still on my shoulder, tickled my ear more persistently. This time, instead of wringing the bird's neck as I would have loved to, I was jolted into another reality.

My eyes shot open to see Fred and George leaning over me. I jumped on instinct and my forehead slammed into Fred's. He stumbled back, tripped over my Westie, Lewis, who yelped and scurried away, and fell into my laundry hamper. If my forehead hadn't been hurting so much, I would have been laughing as hard as George was.

George showed me the quill with which he and Fred had evidently been taking turns tickling my ear, waking me from my dream. I can't say I was too angry at them. The dream terrified me more than my conscious mind knew was rational. Dumbledore knew everything that Snape taught me. Well, almost everything. But as long as Snape didn't let those secrets out, we would both be safe.

I reluctantly got out of bed and proceeded to help Fred out of my laundry hamper. I pulled him up by the hand and, after he let go of me, could feel tingles where his skin came in contact with mine. Warmth spread through me, and I tried not to grin like an idiot or give myself up in some other way.

George was in the fetal position on my wooden bedroom floor, crying in his fits of laughter. Fred playfully kicked his ribs and stormed out of the room. George got up from the floor and, after a half-hearted (and failed) attempt to compose himself, said, "Breakfast is in twenty minutes." Then he followed Fred.

I got clothes out of my closet and ran to the bathroom to take a fifteen minute shower. When seven of the nine Weasleys are residing in one's home for the week, and they all have the habit of taking showers after breakfast, one soon realizes that it is in one's best interest to shower right after one wakes up. I got out of the steaming bathroom twenty minutes later and plopped myself down at the table between Harry (yes, I know you know who _the_ Harry Potter is) and Ginny.

Earlier this summer, Mr. Weasley proposed the idea to his family, Harry, and Hermione that they should all go see the Quidditch World Cup together. He didn't think to invite me, since I had only been at Hogwarts for a year and lived in America, but I had become such great friends with the Golden Trio (due to events involving a werewolf and several unregistered Animagi) that they immediately asked to invite me. So we agreed (because all the wizards wanted to go to America) that they would come to my house for the week before the Cup and then we would all leave for the Burrow via the Floo Network. Today was Thursday, the fifth of seven days that they would be staying with us.

Someone yanked on my ponytail. Ron had a habit of doing that. If only I was allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts, I could practice all the spells, jinxes, and curses that I had learned thanks to Professor Snape.

Two years ago, I was in the eighth grade at a boring, Catholic, co-ed day school in the suburbs of New York. One day in the beginning of the school year, my mom and I were sitting by an open window discussing which high schools I would be applying to when a barn owl flew through the window, scaring my mom and me half to death. He landed on the table and stuck out his leg which had a letter attached to it.

The letter was from a Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and it explained the following unfathomable things:

  1.  I was a witch, a person who has the aptitude to perform magic.
  2. Starting the next year, I would be going to a boarding school thousands of miles away, in Scotland.
  3. Most witches and wizards got their letters when they were eleven years old, but I was apparently a "special case." This was also the reason why I would be going to Hogwarts and not the American wizarding school, Ilvermorny.
  4. Because I had already missed two years of school and would be missing a third, I would be visited by a Professor Snape on weekends and vacations (he would get to my house by something called "Apparating") and I would spend my summer vacation at Hogwarts studying with him. All this work would only get me into third year when I would have been in fourth, _and_ that was only if I passed the exam that Snape would be giving me at the end of the summer.



Of course, my mom, adopted sister Kelsie, and I were baffled; we didn't believe a word of the letter. Still, we prepared the house that Saturday for a guest and were surprised when a black-robed, hooked-nosed, greasy-haired man teleported into our living room with a loud _POP!_ He introduced himself as Professor Severus Snape and thus began my Hogwarts career.

I ended up not needing to take high school entrance exams, because no matter what, I would be going to Hogwarts. On the day after my graduation, the Professor gave me the honor of Apparating with him to Hogwarts, where I studied non-stop for the next two months, never even getting a chance to go outside. I got an O on the exam.

Back in the present, I looked around the breakfast table. Sitting there were Kelsie, Harry, Hermione, and most of the Weasley children: Ginny, Ron, George, Fred, and Percy. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in the kitchen using their magic to help my mom with breakfast. These people (minus Kelsie, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Percy) were some of the first actual friends I made after being sorted into Gryffindor. Harry, Ron, and Hermione became great friends of mine, but I always felt a greater connection with Fred and George, as I should have been in their year, and I prided myself on being able to tell them apart better than their own mother.

After a wonderful breakfast (French toast and bacon) filled with talk and laughter, we all moved on to our plans for that day. we had decided the day before just to go into New York City and see the sights. We took the train in and went to Macy's, where we split up to look at all the items on sale that we could never buy. I was innocently looking at a gorgeous dress that could have passed for wizard clothing when Ginny and Hermione grabbed me by the hands and, grinning incredibly, dragged me to a counter that was displaying various men's watches.

I was about to question why this was being shown to me when Hermione said, "For You-Know-Who."

Of course I knew exactly who she was talking about, but because I always loved seeing people's reactions, I asked, "Why do you want me to buy a watch for Voldemort?"

Hermione and Ginny both gasped audibly; Hermione clapped a hand over my mouth and Ginny, in a comically exaggerated flinch, nearly knocked over a display case. Out of everyone I know (or I guess knew, because most of them are now dead) there are only four people, myself included, that would speak the Dark Lord's name. The rest responded to us four in ways very similar to Hermione and Ginny.

Once they had recovered, Hermione and Ginny insisted that I buy a $300 watch, later to slip it into "You-Know-Who's" bag for him to find. Because a) I had all the birthday money I had accumulated over the past three years on me and b) I was stupid and impressionable, I agreed to the idea.

I bought the watch and, when we got home, wrapped it in paper and wrote two simple words on the paper in disguised handwriting. I left it in a blue and black book bag under a pile of candy-sweet-smelling robes.


	3. "The African Grey" -Fred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope that creating this chapter doesn't create a whole new work like it did last time I posted a new chapter, because that sucked. Thanks Rita. I should probably delete that original one... But it's still doing better than this one, and I want to learn all of its secrets. Whatever. Ignore this note. It's more for my amusement than yours.

"LET ME CHANGE!" This was the third time that George tried to beat in the door of the bedroom we shared with Charlie (who was my only overage brother who decided to take a week of work off to come to America), Ron, and Harry. It wasn't as if he didn't have a reason, though. I had been "changing" for twice as long as I usually did, and for a simple reason: I had no idea what to do.

I had been innocently looking through my backpack for some comfortable robes when - lo and behold - I found a paper-wrapped parcel with the words "For Fred" written on it in a handwriting I didn't recognize. I unwrapped it to find a watch. I gasped when I saw it. It was shining, silver, and must have cost the buyer a fortune. But who bought it?

Mum, Dad. Hermione, Ginny. Lish. Those were my options (as I'm not counting Kelsie or any of the boys). That is, if you don't count the four girls, friends of Lish, who paid a group surprise visit yesterday. They were intrigued by the sheer number of people, the sheer number of redheads, currently residing in their friend's house. They seemed to have taken a special interest in George and me. Ew. I still shuddered at the thought. There was no way- just no. Totally gross. Grosser (was that a word?) than Professor Quirrell's sweaty turban.

In the end, I decided just to throw caution to the wind ( _Alarte ascendare!_ ) and wear the watch. Maybe if it was- maybe if my suitor (ugh) saw me wearing it, it would make her happy. Maybe it would make George jealous.

I strutted out of that bedroom with my new watch on, having completely forgotten to change out of my Muggle clothing. I got odd looks from my brothers and Harry when they saw what clothes I was still wearing, but their eyes widened when they saw what was on my wrist.

"Where-" George began.

"I have no idea," I cut him off.

When the girls saw it, their reactions were even more priceless. They screeched loudly and, running us to me, held my arm at every which angle to get the best view.

"Did you buy it?" Ginny asked.

"No. I found it in my bag. It's a gift."

"Someone must have a secret admirer," Lish said in her cute American accent, with a mischievous smile.

I was led to believe that the girls had nothing to do with the watch; their actions were those of people of perfect innocence. That made me sad, yet intrigued. If they weren't behind it, who was? I realized now that I was stupid to think it could have been my parents; they wouldn't have bought something only for me, and they wouldn't have been able to afford something so expensive anyway. So it must have been one of the Muggle girls; they could have gotten one of the girls to put it in my bag. So perhaps they weren't completely innocent, but close enough. I considered taking the watch off, but thought against it. I would wait the girl out.

After dinner (which I ate still in Muggle clothing), I excused myself from Dad's nightly ritual of asking the two Muggles about life without magic and went straight to bed. Before even Ron came up, I was thrown into a dream:

I was at the Burrow, and I needed to get into George and my room; I didn't know why, as that's how dreams work, but it was urgent. I burst through the door to find - Merlin's beard, I can hardly admit this, even in writing - Lish going through my bag.

"Lish?" I asked.

She looked up, startled, and shoved a parcel quickly into her pocket. She got up and made for the doorway, but I blocked her. "What's that?" I demanded.

She looked up at me in defiance, but then hung her head in defeat. "It's for you," she said softly, handing it to me.

I took it from her and unwrapped it. It was a handsome Muggle watch (not that Muggle watches were any different than wizard watches, but that's not the point). I looked at her in amazement. "You... but... _why?_ "

"Because I have a crush on you," she stated defiantly.

I laughed out loud for joy: "I bloody fancy you too!"

"You- you do?" She looked shocked.

"I do!"

The rest of the dream will _not_ ever be written down on paper. What would I ever do if Lish found it? What would I ever do if George found it? Well, actually, George already knew about my love. In fact (spoiler alert), he liked her too.

Yup, my life. My twin brother, who I loved more than I loved myself, liked the same girl that I did. So what did I agree to? Well, if you insist, something quite stupid; something that had nothing in it for me. Please don't judge, I did it because I loved him... Ugh... Must I admit it?...

...

.....

.......

I told George that, for him, I wouldn't go after Lish.

I know, right? I'm so bloody stupid!

What happened to firstborn rights?

I'm like that bloke from some Muggle book who sold his firstborn rights for a bowl of soup. And I didn't even get any soup from George. Not even a biscuit.

Whatever. The point is, I was dumb. I regretted my decision every day. It would come back to haunt me many times in the future. Because sure, Lish was a Snape-loving, Slytherin-lover-loving fourth year, but she was _my_ Snape-loving, Slytherin-lover-loving fourth year. George shouldn't have been able to have her.

My god, I sounded like a hormonal teenage girl.

So anyway, the next day I woke up to a day of relaxation. We had planned on going to Central Park in Manhattan, but decided unanimously against it. So instead, we played Muggle board games, watched Muggle TV ("How does that work?!" Dad asked excitedly), and were introduced to the Internet. I still fail to understand it. Muggles made everything so complicated.

I was thoroughly convinced that Kelsie fancied Ron. Today, she kept asking him questions about himself, the wizarding world, etc., and complimented him at every chance she got. She was, like, nine! Poor Ron.

Halfway through the day, I realized that Lish was missing. I made the decision not to panic, but to look for her without alerting anyone to her absence. I looked through the entire house, but she was nowhere to be found. Crud.

I left the house, wandered down the suburban street. It was really beautiful, the Muggle suburbs. The houses all lined up in rows, picturesque against the blue skies. Perfect little trees and flowers, screaming out, "Look at me! Come inside! You're always welcome!"

Their cities were also beautiful, but in a different sense. There were no wizarding cities; our towns never had the chance to get that big. The Muggles might spot them. Even the Ministry of Magic was built underground so as not to draw Muggle attention.

A grey bird with a bright red tail flew in front of my face. I jumped about five feet in the air, stumbled backwards, and landed on my butt. I really needed to stop doing that. The bird landed on my knee. I could now tell it was an African Grey parrot (I'm sorry, I was a bird person, sue me), and I was almost certain that it was laughing at me.

It flew from my knee and swooped once again in front of my face as if to say, "Well, are you coming?" I was surprised it didn't say it; it was a parrot, after all, and seemed magical. Instead, it kept dive bombing me until I had gotten up and started following it.

The parrot led me to the space between an abandoned house and its fence. The spot was secluded so that nobody was able to see. For the first time, I began to think that this was perhaps a bad idea. What if there was Dark magic involved? The bird made as if to land, and, in the blink of an eye, transformed into Lish.

I gawked at her.

She smiled sweetly at me.

"You- But- How- You're- You're an _Animagus_?"

"That would be correct," she replied.

"Are you registered? Who knows?"

"You and Professor Snape. No, I'm not registered. I hope I don't have to tell you to keep it a secret?

"Calm down," she said, when she saw my eyes go wide. "I'm very careful. I never let anyone know it's me."

"Why did you let me know?" I was still gaping at her like an idiot.

In response, she shrugged, turned into a parrot, and flew off. I couldn't help thinking of the response she gave me in my dream.


	4. "Sirius Black" -Lish

If there's one thing I love, it's flying. Soaring high above the trees, watching the tiny people, swooping and diving so freaking majestically that it would make any unicorn proud.

My tiny avian heart raced with excitement, the kind of excitement you can only get from disclosing your biggest, most dangerous secret. If I had a human mouth, I would be grinning.

I watched from above as Fred made his way back to my house. I couldn't believe that I showed him! It was probably quite stupid of me. I decided I needed some time to fly it off.

An hour later, just as I had begun to fly back to my hiding place to transform, I saw something that made me want to grin even more. Unfortunately, I was still a parrot and could not. Thanks a ton, Rita.

A huge black dog was making his way down my block. Of course, I instantly recognized him. But what was he doing here? And how did he know where _here_ was?

I used the same tactic that I had with Fred; I dive-bombed him, probably scaring the living dog poo out of him. Instead of falling backwards as Fred did, however, he went rigid. The second time I flew by, he snarled. I really didn't want to get bitten, so I led him to my hiding spot. He reluctantly and warily followed.

When I got to my spot, I saw his senses go on high alert. I knew that he knew there was magic involved, he just didn't know if it was Dark or friendly. I transformed into a human and when he saw who I was, I instantly saw him relax. A huge dog-grin spread across his dog face. He ran up to me, wagging his tail, and I ran my hands through his black, shaggy fur.

"What are you doing here? Did Dumbledore give you permission to come?" I didn't expect an answer. "Don't change here, someone might see you. Don't tell anyone about me; only you and Fred Weasley know." I decided not to mention Snape. I knew his opinion of the man.

We walked back to my house; me as a human with the big dog trotting happily at my heel. When we entered the living room, we saw that everyone was gathered there. _This is going to be fun,_ I thought, suppressing a smile.

Everyone was staring at me and the black dog. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, recognizing him, stood up with grins on their faces. In the blink of an eye, the dog transformed into-

" _Sirius Black!_ " Mrs. Weasley screamed, standing up and drawing her wand.

"Mum, shut up! It's okay!" Ron shouted.

Rita Skeeter put this scene in the wrong place in her books. She also under-dramatized it.

Mr. Weasley and Charlie also stood up with wands drawn. "Stay back," Mr. Weasley said icily, moving in front of the underage wizards. Charlie copied his action. "Get away from my children. Alisha, step away from him."

"ALISHA GET AWAY FROM HIM!!" Mrs. Weasley reiterated. She was now being physically restrained by Harry, Ron, and my mom, whom I had informed of his innocence by owl the day I found out myself.

Sirius, who had instinctively taken out his wand when he was threatened, handed it to me and put his hands in the air. "It's okay," he said. "I'm on your side. Ask Harry, Ron, Hermione, Lish." He looked at each of us in turn, then grinned when Mrs. Weasley stopped struggling. "Ron?" she asked. "Is this true?"

"Yeah, Mum," Ron laughed. "He's always been innocent. It was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed Harry's parents to You-Know-Who, and he's not dead." I thought it wise of him not to mention that Scabbers the rat was Pettigrew all along; it might have been too much for her to take in in ten minutes.

Harry let go of Mrs. Weasley and ran up to Sirius, throwing his arms around him in a hug. Oh, the sentimentality of the scene almost made me cry. Joyful reunion, only fatherly love that Harry'd ever experienced, blah, blah, blah. Guess who else needed fatherly love, Sirius? The girl whose father died in a car accident before she was born, perhaps? Why didn't I get a hug? Thanks, Rita.

Ron and my mom tentatively let go of Mrs. Weasley, unsure of whether of not she was going to charge him or shout some horrible curse (perhaps _Anteoculatia!_ ). Instead, she cautiously walked up to him, wand loosely exchanged to her left hand, and carefully shook his. He grinned even wider.

Sirius walked to each person in turn, shaking their hands. When he reached my mom, I got and idea that I really, really tried not to think but couldn't help:

The previous year, when I was at school, Kelsie sent me an owl saying that my Mom was getting serious (Sirius) bouts of depression, such as she used to get when I was younger, before she adopted Kelsie. Kelsie had heard from me about the depression, and we both knew it was because of loneliness. Kelsie had asked in her letter if there were any young, attractive Hogwarts professors that we could-

_Stop it, mind. Don't go there._

And here, in front of us_

_Stop it mind._

-was Sirius-

_Lish, stop thinking now._

-young and attractive-

_Lish..._

-gosh, he was casted wrong in the movies.

_Alisha Dacey, stop this nonsense._

You know you think it.

_Well..._

So, I entertained my mind for a moment. What if maybe - just maybe - my mom and Sirius fell for each other. What if they (crazy thought mode) got married? Merlin, it would fix so many problems! Kelsie and I would have a dad, the only dad we've ever known; I would have a wizard in the family, someone to teach me cool magic; my mom would be _happy_. That's one of the one things I wanted out of life - for my mom to be happy. (Of course I also wanted my own physical safety, my family's physical safety, and to freaking marry Fred, but out of all four of those things I wanted in life, I only got three fourths of one of them.)

After Sirius was done introducing himself, we all sat down. My mom nervously tried to start up conversation, as most of the wizards were too tense to say anything. Sirius was first to really start taking up the conversation with my mom. I caught Kelsie's eye, and she grinned; I knew we were thinking, _hoping_ , the same thing. We joined the conversation (it was something about the quality of human shampoo versus dog shampoo, I remember) along with the underage wizards and even Charlie. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were still slightly uneasy with Sirius at this point.

The rest of the day passed pretty well. I noticed, at dinner, that Sirius and Mom sat next to each other (causing Kelsie and I to wiggle our eyebrows at each other) and that Fred was still wearing my watch (causing Ginny and Hermione to wiggle their eyebrows at me). Conversation ranged from the ongoing argument of human versus dog shampoo to the Ministry's inability to keep track of all the Animagi (Sirius winked at me) to the Internet. When my mom asked Sirius to stay with us for a few days, it made us all happy, even the wizards who had been wary of him at first. I think we all laughed more that night than we had any time before Sirius came. I was glad to see that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed completely comfortable with him by bedtime. I know that I myself went to bed feeling warm and happy.


	5. "Mr. and Mrs. Sirius Black" -Fred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! One of my good friends, a witch I've known from my school days and one of my few magical friends who reads my "fan""fiction" (thanks to the technology involved) commented to me that I ought to stop switching perspectives without telling the reader. I thought that this was actually a pretty valid point (although of course I wanted to Crucio her a little when she first brought it up) (just kidding, I love her and would never Crucio her). Anyway, I'm going to start writing the POV as the chapter title. 
> 
> Also, I make no promises, but I also want to start posting a bit more often. I already have a good deal of chapters written and the only reason I haven't yet posted them all is because I find myself in a bit of a hole with the one I'm writing now. Not writer's block, of course - I know my own story through and through - it's just that I can't find much time to write, since my boss decided to throw a bunch of work on me this summer (involving an international wizarding summer camp at Ilvermorny). The struggles of life. Wish me luck, and enjoy!
> 
> Oh yeah, one more thing I almost forgot. By rights, I should be adding on another relationship tag which I forgot to put on when I created this work. Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s). However, I'm terrified that if I try to do that, my work will split, as anyone who's been with this from the beginning can remember happening. I just deleted the split work today. I really don't want that to happen again. So until I get up the nerve, I'm not adding any tags.

"Mmmm..." I groaned sleepily. "Whaa..." In my half-asleep, half-dead haze, I vaguely felt four weights on top of me. This realization startled my foggy brain, jolting me awake. I jumped, and four and a fifth owls were thrown into the air (because Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, only counted as a fifth of an owl).

"Hedwig! Hermes! Apollo! Artemis! PIG!!" I shouted at them. "You will pay for this! you will rue the day you woke up Fred Weasley!"

The five owls didn't seem to care. They didn't squawk in terror. They didn't tremble in fear. No, they just found a new place to perch and fell asleep. Errol, who was apparently too old for their childish games, gave a mournful hoot and blinked at me from the corner. I sighed. I knew the owls were only this rambunctious because of Apollo and Artemis.

The godly twins (no, not George and me, although I know we're divinely handsome) had been abandoned at the pet store in Hogsmeade, and the store's owner decided to give them to the first person who walked through the door who would take them. It happened to be around Christmastime, and Lish was planning to buy her mom and Kelsie an owl, since the three of them were constantly sending letters back and forth. So Lish was the lucky girl who got the two great owls for free, not the Weasleys, who barely had a couple of Knuts to rub together. Now that _I_ was the one who minded our situation. I was Ron and Percy's job to complain.

Anyway, because Artemis and Apollo were so often separated, they were a huge trouble when together, as they were so happy to play with each other. No Chocolate Frog or five-foot-long, nearly finished Potions essay was safe around them. Their, ah, _enthusiasm_ rubbed off on the other owls, and although I am proud that even owls can manage mischief, I would have loved many a night to be able to do Snape's homework and get to sleep.

The other four boys sat up and rubbed their eyes, giving me dirty looks for waking them up. "It was the owls!" I protested in vain. The five little pieces of bird poo were all perched in different places around the room, their evil little heads tucked under their evil little wings, probably to hide their evil little owl-laughter. Creeps.

I sighed. "Well, we may as well get up."

George jumped out of the bed he shared with me, grinning. "Up and at 'em! Last day!"

It was, I remembered then, our last day in America. I would certainly miss Lish's family, but the day after tomorrow was the World Cup! My apologies to Mrs. Dacey and Kelsie, but I was dying to get back to Europe.

I quickly got dressed (hey, we were all brothers here, except Harry, and he didn't mind) and walked down the stairs. Sprawled across the bottom landing was a huge black dog. Sirius Black. I wasn't quite sure of whether or not to trust him, but since Snape-lover Lish, ickle Ronnie, Ravenclaw Hermione, and The Boy Who Lived all trusted him, I decided to try. I stepped over the dog (trusting that he wouldn't spring up and bite me where it hurts) and began walking towards the dining room (trusting that he wouldn't spring up and tackle me from behind).

"Weasley," a voice said from behind. I turned to see Sirius - in human form, of course - standing at the bottom of the steps. "George? Fred?"

A flare of irrational anger ran through me, but I quieted it. He had only just met me; it wasn't like he was our own mother mixing us up. "Fred," I said.

"Sorry," he responded. I shook my head, signaling that it was okay. "I could smell the distrust coming off of you. Even a little fear. I know it's your first day meeting me, and I hope that goes away."

He paused, then continued: "Know that I would do anything to protect those four: Harry, Hermione, Lish, Ron. They're the first people I've loved in a long time. I would give my life for any one of them in a heartbeat."

Sirius seemed so open, so honest, that I decided then to trust him. I also decided to screw the manly handshake and give him a hug. He seemed a bit surprised, but then hugged me back. "Thank you," I said.

"Nice watch," he responded, and I grinned. We broke the hug and walked the rest of the way to the dining room. As usual, the smell wafting from the kitchen was amazing. Sirius and I sat next to each other, when Lish sat down she was next to me, and George was next to her. Perfect teasing position.

"I'd like to let you know how honored you are, sitting between us, Alisha," I began, putting my elbow on the table and resting my head on my fist so that I was facing her.

"George is right," George said, mirroring my position. "I bet you've never sat between such awesome-"

"-long-haired-"

"-freckled-"

"-stunningly gorgeous wizards."

"Weasleys, nonetheless."

"You should be incredibly proud of yourself."

"Not many girls can achieve that goal."

"George, you mentioned our new long hair. Whaddaya think of it, Lish?"

"First of all, I know that _you_ are George,"Lish said, looking at George, "and that _you_ are Fred." She looked at me. "You learned last year that you can't trick me with that, and your watch, Fred, only helps everyone else out."

I tucked my arm into the sleeve of my robes.

"As for your hair," she continued, "the length only adds on to my ability to pull it." As if to prove her point, she grabbed a fistful of each of our hair and yanked our heads back.

"Ow!" George and I cried in unison.

"That's what you get for messing with an American," Mrs. Dacey said, coming from the kitchen with three heaping plates of pancakes in her arms. She put one plate in front of George, one in front of me (and got a murderous look from Lish when she skipped her), and one in front of Sirius.

"Thanks, darling," Sirius said with a grin, playfully patting her arm. She turned bright scarlet and quickly walked out of the room, nearly running over Harry who was walking in. Sirius chuckled and dug into his food. Lish grinned like a maniac. I could have thrown up. The two hadn't even known each other for a full twenty-four hours and they were practically making lovey eyes at each other. And Lish was encouraging it! Her own mother!

The rest of breakfast was uneventful until somehow conversation strayed to Severus Snape. I knew as soon as his name came up that this would turn into a nightmare. I can't remember who spoke the name first - it certainly wasn't me or Lish - but once they did, Sirius picked up the cue. It turned into a spirited game of Who Can Diss Snape the Best?, everyone participating except for me and George, my parents, and the Daceys, all of whom just sat there awkwardly. I could feel Lish's anger building, and when Ron presented the theory that perhaps Snape confused water with oil when he bathed, Lish burst. She pulled away from the table, her half-eaten breakfast forgotten since the start of the dissing. Her chair screeched loudly on the wooden floor.

"Oh c'mon, Lish!" Ron called after her as she stormed out of the room. She screamed and we all jumped as she slammed her door loud enough to shake the entire house. "Just because you love him doesn't mean it isn't true!

"She's in love with him," Ron continued to Sirius. "She's been taking private lessons with him since she first came to Hogwarts. Late, late at night. I've always wondered what they do in there..."

"Will you SHUT UP!?" I said loudly, standing up. "I am absolutely disgusted that you should even _imply_ that!"

"Yes, Fred, we all know you love her."

I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room as Lish had. How dare he? How dare that little brat even _imagine_ anything between Lish and Snape? And how dare he, in front of everyone, say that I loved her? I never told him that I did, but I never exactly tried to hide it either.

I reached Lish's door and knocked tentatively. "Lish?" I said softly.

"What do you want?" she said angrily.

"Alright then, nevermind," I said quickly, backing away.

"No, come in," she said, although not in a much softer tone than before. I opened the door to find Lish pacing the room, her face red with rage. Once I was in, she slammed the door behind me.

"He's a good person!" she exclaimed angrily. "He just doesn't let people close enough for them to see it. I mean, I wouldn't exactly call him _kind_ , but he really does care about them all. Everyone at Hogwarts! He's deadly smart, he shares his wisdom with me, there's a bigger purpose to everything he does. I'm not sure what it is yet, but there is one. And I don't care what everyone says, he's not a Death Eater!"

Her voice rose with each word, and at the end of the crescendo, she fell back on her bed. I didn't trust myself to say anything, so I just stood there awkwardly. Should I go sit next to her? Should I make a joke or say something sincere? What was it about this girl that made me so awful at life?

After an awkward ten seconds, I decided to go sit next to her and try to be the most sincere I had probably ever been in my life, though it physically pained me. "I'm sorry what they said about him. I'm sorry I didn't do anything to stop it. I... I _respect_ your opinion of him, even though I don't agree with it. I don't know if he's good or bad, and as his actions usually point to the latter, I'm not jumping to any conclusions. But, that doesn't mean I'm gonna go making fun of him." I couldn't take the pure sincerity any longer, and grinned. "Next time anyone does, though, I advise you remind them that their just jealous of how he's brought you to a level superior to most sixth years in the one year you've been at Hogwarts."

"Thanks," Lish said with what I thought was a small giggle [Note: I, Alisha Dacey of Gryffindor, Hogwarts Class of 1998, do NOT giggle]. She sat up, and I gave her a pat on the back.

"I'm starving, so I'll go get our food and we can eat in here." I did as I said I would (there was a huge row going on in the dining room, those on Ron's side versus those on Lish and my side), and we finished breakfast sitting on Lish's bed. Considering that it was just the two of us, sitting and eating food in close proximity without adult supervision, I considered it to be a sort of date. The thought made me almost choke on a bite of pancake.

"Are you okay?" Lish asked, concerned, with a hand on my shoulder.

"Technical difficulties," I replied between coughs.

"Technical difficulties from the strong man who hit Lord Voldemort in the face with snowballs?" I grimaced at You-Know-Who's name.

Considering that there were never transfers to Hogwarts, everyone was extremely interested in Lish, and all her friends made it their duty to fill her in on all the exciting and hilarious things that happened at Hogwarts before her time. We'd almost made it an official game, titled "I Remember When." This was how she had learned of George and my heroic snowball exploit.

"I remember when George and I tried to send Harry a toilet seat, but Dumbledore wouldn't let us," I said. Lish laughed. All the epic acts of bravery done by everyone had already been relayed to her, so we were now left telling insignificant but amusing details. "It was after Harry's fight with You-Know-Who in first year and he was unconscious in the hospital wing. Everyone was sending him candy and flowers, so George and I though we would get him something more original. Dumbledore was amused but though it might be offensive, so he gave it back to us and now it's in our closet."

Lish laughed again. We continued talking until Mrs. Dacey told us we were leaving. The adults had decided to take us to the nearby ice skating rink for the day. I had hoped we could visit some iconic Muggle building, like the Statue of Liberty, or the Empire State Building, or the Sixteenth Chapel (that was in New York, right?), but that was not to be the case. Oh well. I could deal. It would be better than sitting in the Burrow all day hearing Percy brag about his promotion, or whatever it was that Percy bragged about.

Lish grabbed her skates - she was experienced like that - and we headed out to the rink a few blocks away, Sirius in dog form. He was only allowed in because the Daceys were friends with the manager. Having never ice skated before, us Weasleys (and Harry) needed the Daceys' (and Hermione's) help tying our rented skates on. Unfortunately, it was Mrs. Dacey, not Lish, who tied mine. She busied herself with George, which I was sure made him happy. When we were all laced up, we headed out onto the ice. The adults didn't go on. Everyone but Lish, Kelsie, and Hermione was terrible, and the three girls had their hands full trying to prevent us all from falling. Therefore, I didn't have Lish to myself very much. It didn't help either that I caught on very quickly, unlike George, who kept falling. He was probably doing it to get her attention. Twerp.

The girls eventually got tired of trying to teach us to skate, so they left us to our own devices and raced each other around the rink. Practically before a second had passed, Charlie was on his butt, causing George and me to laugh at him, causing George to end up on his butt. Mine, however, was too hot to touch the ice.

See what I did there?

Eventually, I decided to leave the nurturing care of the wall and brave the unexplored center of the rink. As soon as Lish saw what I was doing, and saw my two close calls with death (falling), she was right by my side. I refused to hold onto her - hey, I had to keep up my appearance of a strong man _somehow_ \- but she refused to leave me, in case I fell and cracked my head open. I didn't know about her, but I didn't know any wizarding hospitals in the area.

When Lish decided that I wasn't going to die if left alone, she left again. I had a surprising amount of fun trying to catch the girls (they waited until I was almost able to reach them, then zoomed away laughing) for the next few hours. Then, in the middle of a game of tag with Kelsie, I suddenly noticed, for the second time in two days, that Lish was missing. I abandoned Kelsie and got off the ice in search of Lish. It wasn't hard finding her. She was right by the doors leading to the rink, spying into another room. She jumped when I touched her shoulder, then put a finger to her lips and a hand on the center of my chest - a clear sign for me to shut up and wait a second - then turned to look back into the room. I tried to move to look over her shoulder, but she held me in place. After a few seconds, she gave a small, excited squeal and turned around, did a little jig with a grin on her face, and planted an excited kiss on my cheek. Thank God she grabbed my wrist and dragged me behind her, because if not, she would have seen me turn bright red.

We ended up on the other side of the building in a cafeteria-like area, though we didn't sit.

"Would you like to explain that to me?" I asked with a nervous laugh. I was probably still incredibly red.

Lish gave another squeal and squeezed me in a hug. "My mom... and Sirius! If you hadn't noticed, Kelsie and I want them to be together, and if you hadn't noticed, they like each other."

"Of course I noticed, I have-"

"Shut up, don't cut me off. Sorry. So I noticed that they weren't in the bleachers, so I left to find them. They were in that room... they were talking... and... and- oh my God, I can hardly even say it... they kissed!" She laughed in delight and hugged me again. "Now I must be off to tell Kelsie. Adieu." She ran off.

Wonderful. My (hopefully) future girlfriend's mother was hooking up with a convicted killed. I could see how this was going to end.

I shook my head in disbelief and followed Lish back onto the ice. She practically flew over to Kelsie - I didn't know it was possible to move faster than two kilometers per hour on ice skates - and began telling her the news. I was truly beginning to think the girl was mad. She must have been expecting some sort of happy ending, but I know she wasn't going to get it. Not only was Sirius a convicted murderer, he had people to worry about thousands of kilometers away from here. I gave them a year before something went wrong. And I was in a generous mood after being kissed by Lish.

Eventually, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Sirius Black come back into the room with the rink, holding hands. At least that meant there was nothing awkward between them, that they were full-out "together." I would have to ask Sirius how he did it. I looked over and saw Lish elbow Kelsie and point to them, then they turned away giggling and grinning.

By the time we left for Lish's house, news of the new couple had spread throughout our entire party. It was blatantly obvious how close together they walked, stood, sat, everything, for the rest of the day until we left using the neighbor's connection to the Floo network (they never knew that they had lived right next to a wizarding family their entire lives). It was like watching a couple of teenagers. It made me heartsick, and I must admit that I was actually quite happy when we got back to the Burrow, Lish stroking her new "cell phone," a Muggle communication device, that her mom get her in case of emergency. Lish explained to her that magic and technology don't mix, but Mrs. Dacey, ever the young, cool mom, gave her permission to sneak out to a less magical place if ever there was a true emergency.

If I ever did that, I would get a Howler screaming at me to get my dishonored butt right back home, as I was a disgrace to the family name.

We arrived at the Burrow at 8:00 P.M., Burrow time, so we ate a meal, then planned for the next few days. Tomorrow, we would go to Diagon Alley to get school supplies (our school letters had arrived out first day at the Daceys'), the day after was the Quidditch World Cup, and the day after was the first day of school. O.W.L. year. I nearly shuddered remembering. I hoped that the World Cup would go on for a few months, and that we could miss a good deal of school.

We wasted time until we were tired enough to even consider sleeping - it was about midnight - then went to our respective beds. It was good to be home.


	6. "The Quidditch World Cup" -Lish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm three days late posting. Shame on me. But it's been a busy week. Here's why:
> 
> Me on Monday: Hey kids! Today's the Fourth of July! I used to live here in America and I loved today because I could always hear fireworks late into the night. Ah, it was such a comforting sound.  
> Albus Severus (Potter, in case you had doubts): Ooo! Fireworks are so cool! Why don't we celebrate with them!  
> Me: Of course we can't do fireworks, Albus Severus. The Muggles will notice.  
> All the kids: AWWWWWWW.  
> *James (Sirius Potter, in case you had doubts) whispers intensely to Albus Severus*  
> *Albus Severus whispers intensely back to James*  
> Later that night...  
> Literally everyone in Ilvermorny: WHO RELEASED THE WEASLEYS' WILDFIRE WHIZ-BANGS IN THE CASTLE!!!!!
> 
> Needless to say, it took all week to finally get all the fireworks under control. Then, after that, everyone had to rush to get back on schedule. Hopefully, we won't have any future incidents like this, as I personally Apparated both James and Albus Severus back to Harry and Ginny. Lily's great though. She's a sweetheart and wouldn't dream of giving us trouble. We love her.
> 
> Anyway, on to the story.

Mrs. Weasley woke up Ginny, Hermione, and me at 9:00 a.m. After the three of us "went to bed" at 11:30, Ginny and I stayed up talking about our love lives for about four or five hours, long after Hermione gave up trying to tell us that we would regret it in the morning. Of course, I knew that I should have listened to her, but of course I _didn't._ Now that I _was_ regretting it, I told myself that I would listen to her next time, knowing full well that I wouldn't. It was a ruthless, endless cycle.

We went down to the kitchen for breakfast (Ginny and my heads nearly nodded off into our food at least a dozen times) then used the Floo network to get to Diagon Alley. We all parted ways to get what we needed. Hermione and I went to Gringotts to exchange our Muggle money for Wizarding money, then we made our way to the book shop. After getting _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 4_ along with all the other books we needed, we headed to the robe shop. Although I hadn't yet outgrown my school robes, we were, for some reason, required to buy dress robes. There wasn't a great selection - Mme. Malkin said all the other dress robes had been sold out to Hogwarts students the past week - and Hermione got the only one a human being might have _potentially_ looked okay in, so I decided to take a risk and wait until a new order came in to get one.

We met up with Harry and the Weasley children in an ice cream shop. Harry had a mountainous bowl of ice cream in front of him, while the Weasleys were left digging through their pockets, trying to find enough money for even a scoop. Hermione and I shared a look that we both knew; Harry, I was told, grew up living in a closet under the stairs with his Muggle aunt, uncle, and cousin. While this cousin was obese and got everything he wanted, Harry was starved and never got a birthday present better than a toothpick. He never learned to be generous with his money, or anything really. We all understood this, so nobody said anything. Instead, Hermione and I bought for the Weasleys to their half-hearted protest.

After we finished eating and Hermione and I had gotten scolded by Mrs. Weasley for paying for her children, we went back to the Burrow via Floo powder. We spent the rest of the day preparing for the big day tomorrow- the Quidditch World Cup. Ugh. I didn't even like Quidditch. I never liked Muggle sports, and I was terrible on a broomstick; that added up to my passionate dislike of Quidditch. I think I only watched it because Fred and George played. I, on the other hand, had my own methods of flying. The next morning, we would wake up early and take a Portkey to the site of the game. With that in mind, Ginny and I made sure to actually get to sleep early so that we wouldn't be dead tomorrow.

The next morning, we were woken up at 5:00 by a loud BANG!, a loud curse, and a loud laugh from the twins' room. It was just as well, because we would have been up in half an hour anyway. We groggily made our way downstairs and began eating breakfast. Fred and George came down "innocently" a few minutes later.

"Where are Bill, Charlie, and Percy?" George asked over a yawn, pointing out their absence to me. Bill had arrived at the Burrow the day before and, of course, Percy had been here all along.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they? So they can have a bit of a lie-in," Mrs. Weasley said. I was gonna have to have Professor Snape teach me to Apparate, illegal or not. My tired brain drifted from conversation until...

"George!" Mrs. Weasley screamed, making us all jump.

"What?"

"What is that in your pocket?!"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me! _Accio!_ " Several brightly-wrapped candies flew out of George's pocket due to his mother's Summoning Charm. "We told you to destroy them! We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

As Fred and George reluctantly emptied their pockets, I was informed by others around the table of how the twins had planned on starting a joke shop in Hogsmeade - Weasley's Wizard Wheezes - and that these candies, Ton-Tongue Toffies, were one of their first inventions. Apparently, they had been used on Harry's cousin on the day he was picked up from their house.

George took Fred's cue and pretended that he was done fishing toffees out of his pockets, but Mrs. Weasley was smarter than that: " _Accio! Accio! Accio!_ " Countless more toffees abandoned their homes in Fred and George's clothing and joined the others in Mrs. Weasley's hand.

"No, Mum!" Fred shouted as she threw them away. "We spent six months developing those!"

"Good thing they probably have about a thousand more up in their room," Ginny muttered in my ear as Mrs. Weasley went on a rant about how they should have started studying for their O.W.L.s in that time. ("But they're in a year!")

We left the house after getting ready and made our way to the Portkey on Stoatshead Hill. There was the Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory (trust me, he was actually much cuter than Edward Cullen) and his father. I was half-heartedly listening to them all make small talk until Mr. Diggory started freaking out about Harry's presence, when I rolled my eyes in disgust and walked a few feet away to admire the wildlife until Mr. Weasley called me back to use the Portkey. I put my finger on the old boot between George and Ginny, and when it was time, all ten of us were spun uncontrollably and then deposited painfully on the ground, obviously in a different place.

It was a ginormous campsite, and the Weasley party found a spot to set up their tent (not before having to get a suspicious Muggle's mind erased). We all helped get the tent up, and when it was up, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to get water and Fred, George, and I went to explore. There was so much to see: blatantly obvious magical tents, wizard children (I had never seen one before younger than the age of eleven) practicing magic, and, not to mention, the Irish and Bulgarian tents, all advertising their teams, as they were the teams playing.

We saw the Golden Trio waiting on line for water, and an old wizard, wearing a flowery dress, refusing to be persuaded to put on pants by a Ministry official.

"Muggle _women_ wear them, Archie," the official said, thrusting the pants in his face. "Not the men, they wear _these._ "

"I'm not putting them on. I like a healthy breeze round my privates, thanks."

George snorted. "Cheers to that," he said, looking down at his own pants in disgust.

We eventually for tired of watching Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, staring down at us from the many moving pictures of him scattered throughout the campsite, so we made our way back to our tent. Twenty minutes after us, Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived. "You've been ages," said George.

"Lish managed to let Dad play with the matches a bit _and_ get the fire started herself while you were gone," Fred added.

"We met a few people," Ron said. "You can't blame us."

The fire wasn't hot enough to cook anything on for another hour, but Mr. Weasley entertained us by pointing out all the members of the Ministry of Magic that he recognized. Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived just in time for lunch, and as we were all halfway through our eggs and sausages, a man in yellow and black striped Quidditch robes caught Mr. Weasley's attention and he called him over.

The man was introduced to us as Ludo Bagman, the person who got us our tickets, and we were introduced to him. I couldn't help but notice his shock at hearing Harry's name. Bagman asked us all if we'd like to bet on the match, and while Mr. Weasley bet only a Galleon that Ireland would win and the rest of us kindly refused, Fred and George bet their entire savings for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, plus a fake wand, that Ireland would win but Bulgaria would get the Snitch.

Bagman, after excitedly taking their money, sat on the grass next to us and was in the middle of talking to Mr. Weasley about Bertha Jorkins, a Ministry member who had gone missing, when another Ministry member Apparated beside them. It was Barty Crouch, Percy's boss. I wasn't interested in the following conversation until Bagman mentioned that after the World Cup, they had "plenty left to plan."

The prospect of this secrecy interested me, but it wasn't until Fred mentioned that it had something to do with Hogwarts that I was really intrigued. This was the first time that I had heard of this!

After the two officials left, we all dispersed to buy merchandise from the vendors Apparating all over the place. As most of the other stuffed their pockets with as much as they could buy, I only bought a pair of Omnioculars, which I though were regular binoculars but could actually slow down and replay events. It cost me ten whole Galleons. Thanks, Rita.

Once the Golden Trio had arrived back at the tent, each with a pair of Omnioculars along with other things, a gong sounded beyond the campsite and Mr. Weasley shepherded all of us along a lantern-lit path. As we followed the path and made our way to the Top Box floating high above the huge stadium, I couldn't help but grin at the excitement in the air. It was so thick that I could have bitten into it.

Up in the Top Box, we took our seats. I marveled at the height; sure, it wasn't flying, but it was the second best thing. Fred must have read my mind, because he sent me a look that said, "Don't get any ideas." Harry mistook a female house-elf, Winky, for Dobby, the house-elf he had set free the year before I came to Hogwarts. She was no house-elf I recognized from the Hogwarts kitchens, which I frequented, but she claimed to be saving a seat for her master.

Over the next half hour, many rich and important wizards filled the Top Box, including the Malfoy family. After a tense moment between their party and ours, Lucius Malfoy said, "Good Lord, Arthur. What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

I had to restrain myself from jumping out of my seat and using the Cruciatus Curse on the Death Eater. I probably would have if there weren't so many important wizards present. The Malfoys walked past us to their seats, and I could have sworn I heard Draco mutter "Mudbloods" as he passed Hermione and me. We went red with rage yet stared determinedly forward.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered. However, it was time for the game to begin and they were forgotten.

Alright, people. Let's pull back a second. I'm really not a Quidditch person. I couldnt've cared less about the World Cup. If you want, you can find a full account of the event in _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_. I'll admit that Rita did a good job at that. She's a Quidditch person. It lets out her violent side.

At the end of the day, Ireland won, but Bulgaria's Seeker, Viktor Krum, got the Snitch. He did some move or other (the name of which I fail to remember, it's in _Goblet of Fire_ ) to trick Ireland's Seeker into crashing. Something like that. Whichever way, details of some petty game have really no use in the story of my contribution to the Second Wizarding War. They just aren't important. Rita's great at putting unimportant details into her series, so if you are interested in those, READ HER BOOKS. Anyway, let's get to the juicy Death Eater action from after the game.

After we all got back to the tent, Fred's and George's pockets heavy with the money they won gambling, we ate dinner and went to sleep after much excited conversation. Hermione, Ginny, and I slept in a separate tent from the boys. After seemingly a second of coveted sleep, I - along with everyone else - was woken up by Mr. Weasley's shouts: "Ginny! Hermione! Alisha! Get up! The boys are already up - hurry up - get a jacket and get outside!"

We groggily listened to him , and when we left the tent, we found the camp in utter chaos. People were screaming and running in all directions. At the center of attention was - oh God - a group of masked Death Eaters. I had never actually seen them before then, but Professor Snape had shown me pictures. They were using magic to float a family of Muggles high above them.

Hermione, Ginny, Mr. Weasley, and I joined Harry, Ron, George, and Fred who were looking at the unfolding violence in horror. The three eldest Weasley children also joined us, wands drawn. Mr. Weasley told us that the four of them were going to help the Ministry, and that we should get to the woods and stick together.

The part of me that was constantly avian was happy with the order to get out of danger, but it immediately became apparent that sticking together would be the hard part. Within a few seconds, I found myself separated from the pack, carried off by the crowd. By the time the crowd thinned enough for me to be able to move according to my own will, finding anyone on foot would have been hopeless. I began to run, only stopping after my avian instincts had led me to a place devoid of humans. Then, I transformed into a bird and flew up, high above the trees. I allowed myself to get my bearings before diving back beneath the cover of the trees - I noted the position of the bright fires of the campsite and which way led deeper into the forest. Once under the trees again, I flew, zig-zagging, towards the campsite, scanning the people below for any sign of anyone I knew. It seemed fruitless until I saw three people with fiery red hair below me.

"Oi!" Fred exclaimed when I flew at him, then put out his arm for me to land on. To George and Ginny's looks, he stuttered, "Uhh... She belongs to a friend... of a friend."

Before anyone could inquire further, a flash of green light made the three of them jump and turn around, nearly knocking me off balance.

"Merlin," Fred whispered, looking at the sky.

"The Dark Mark," George said, horrorstruck.

There, glittering above the trees and seemingly made out of green stars, was a skull with a serpent coming out of its mouth. As with the Death Eaters, I had never seen it in person, but had been taught all about it by Professor Snape. It was the mark of Lord Voldemort, and was casted using the spell " _Morsmordre,_ " a spell usually only spoken after the Death Eaters committed a murder.

I squawked in fear and flew off Fred's arm, though he screamed at me to wait. Although my bird instincts told me to fly in the opposite direction, I disobeyed both them and the human fears inside of me. I flew above the trees as fast as I could toward the clearing upon which the Dark Mark cast its light.

I saw below me none other than Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The three of them were obviously innocent, common sense told that, but they were confronted by a dozen Ministry-looking wizards. And there was Mr. Weasley standing up for the three of them. I dove back beneath the trees and turned into a human again.

Just in time, I heard someone walking through the trees toward me - it was Mr. Diggory. I sucked in my breath and tried to make myself as flat as possible against a tree; if I transformed back into a bird, Diggory would certainly notice. He seemed to see something for he shouted: "Yes! We got them! There's someone here! It's-" he gasped "-but - blimey..."

"You've got someone?" shouted a voice I vaguely recognized but couldn't place. "Who? Who is it?"

Mr. Diggory bent over, and I couldn't help but lean over to see what he was doing. When he stood up again, he was carrying Winky. I flattened myself against the tree again as Mr. Diggory walked by alarmingly close to me. I stayed pressed against the tree as Mr. Crouch (Winky happened to be his elf) checked the area himself for any sign of other suspects, then as Winky was awakened from her _Stupefied_ unconsciousness to speak for herself, then as Harry realized that Winky was carrying his wand, then as the Golden Trio _finally_ got some sense and stuck up for poor Winky, and finally as Mr. Crouch punished Winky by promising to set her free. I hated to have to witness the injustice and do nothing about it, but it's not like I _could_ help.

Mr. Weasley removed Harry, Ron, and Hermione from the situation, and I decided it was time for me also to make my exit. I turned into a bird and followed the four of them to a safe distance away, then turned back into a human, pretending to accidentally stumble across them. I started babbling about getting lost and not being able to find anyone I knew and seeing the Dark Mark and getting so scared and nobody being able to speak English and whatever. Mr. Weasley pulled me into a hug and told me that everything would be okay. Man, I was good.

We all arrived at the tent together, and after a few minutes of conversation that did nothing but enlighten Harry and Ron about Death Eaters and the Dark Mark, we all went to bed.


	7. "First Day of School (Which is Always Eventful)!" -Lish

The next day, that is, after we got back to the Burrow, was thoroughly uneventful. The boys played a good deal of Quidditch, which bored me. And although I did pledge allegiance to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and helped them revive the program, nothing _exciting_ happened. There was no Death Eater action like the day before. I spent most of the day talking with the adults about the obnoxious journalist Rita Skeeter, of whom I had known nothing before then, and all the graves she was digging for Ministry officials.

I wouldn't be lying if I said I was relieved when the next day rolled around, when we would be leaving for Hogwarts. We all were woken up early and went to the kitchen for breakfast. When I saw Cedric Diggory's father talking to Mr. Weasley about Mad-Eye Moody through the fireplace, I jumped so badly that everyone laughed out loud. I always acted so cool with and knowledgeable about all magical things - and I usually was - that when I encountered something entirely new to me, my look of offense from not knowing about said thing before encountering it in the real world was so obvious it was laughed at every time.

After we had finished eating and Mr. Weasley had left to assist Moody with his "attempted break-in," Mrs. Weasley ordered three Muggle taxis to take us to King's Cross Station. The ride was quite fun, what with the owls, Crookshanks, and Fred's Filibuster's Fireworks that went off in his trunk. The drivers were incredibly angry with us by the end of it. We got out of the cars into the pouring rain and ran through the wall between platforms 9 and 10, finding ourselves on platform 9 3/4.

We were all saying our goodbyes and the of-age wizards were all hinting at the mysterious things happening at Hogwarts when I was tackled from behind in a hug. I let out a squeal and jumped a few feet in the air, vowing that I would practice every painful curse, hex, and jinx that I knew on my assailant, but they did not let go. The only reason why I didn't keep my word was because I knew who the offender probably was. I spun around to face them.

"Amber!" I exclaimed, confirming my suspicions.

"Lish!" she said.

Amber Perlis was probably one of my best friends in all of Hogwarts, much to my other friends' dismay. She was a Ravenclaw in my year, although that wasn't what bothered people. What bothered people was her blatantly obvious crush on Draco Malfoy. I, however, was not prepared to take this as a character flaw. I viewed it as her willingness to see the good in all people.

Except Snape. She _abhorred_ Snape. No matter how much I tried to convince her of his goodness, she would nave none of it. To this day, I am convinced she just did it to annoy me.

Amber grabbed my wrist. "Come here, I have to tell you something." She dragged me away from my group to my half-hearted protests, which she ignored.

"What?" I said suspiciously when she had stopped pulling me. I didn't trust her excited grin.

"So, you know my crush on Draco?"

"Yes, Amber, the whole school knows about your crush on Draco." I rolled my eyes. "We have eyes."

"Anyway," she continued, ignoring me, "about a month ago, his family invited my family over for dinner. My family is absolutely _terrified_ of his, but we had to accept - you know how old wizarding families are." Yes, I knew. "So when we were over at their house, Draco and I just..." She trailed off.

"C'mon, Amber," I whined. "You can't just leave me hanging like that! You and Draco... what? You declared your undying love for each other... you kissed... you made out - I refuse to say 'snogged,' as you English people put it; that's such a disgusting word... you - I'm gonna leave that though unfinished. You what? If you don't tell me, my mind is gonna run wild with scandalous scenarios, and I'm gonna have to start spreading rumors around the school." I flashed her a grin.

"It doesn't matter what happened that day," she said, calling my purposefully obvious bluff. "The point is that... well... the two of us are together now." I tried to groan only inwardly, but either it showed on my face or I actually made a noise, because she added, "Shut up." I couldn't help but note that she sounded genuinely hurt, causing my heart to lurch with guilt. "I'm sorry," I said.

She tried to brush it off. "It's okay. Anyway, I was just thinking that maybe... maybe this means that there's good luck in store for you and-" she glanced over to where Fred was looking at us disapprovingly. I stuck out my tongue at him and turned back to Amber.

"Thank you," I said, meaning it. When you're a teenage girl, you graciously take whatever hope you can get that one day you will marry your crush and have seven children with them, no matter how far-fetched that hope may be. "And I'm really happy for you and-" I took a page from Amber's book and glanced over at Draco who was walking towards us. She turned around, and seeing the way her face lit up when she saw him, I decided that I was happy for her, if not for Malfoy.

"Amber!" Malfoy said in a tone that was certainly not like him. He embraced her, but didn't take his menacing eyes off of me.

"Draco!" Amber exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in so long!"

He let go of her and smiled (which made me throw up a little in my mouth). "A week and a half, Amber. Almost to the minute."

 _Awww, he's been keeping track of how long they've been apart,_ I thought bitterly. _How romantic._

"Amber, would you mind leaving me alone with Draco for a minute?" I said, startling all three of us.

"O-okay," she said suspiciously. As she started to walk off, Draco called: "I'll be in the fourth car from the back!

"What do you want, Mudblood?" he continued to me.

"I'll have you know that that term, like the name of your daddy's boss, Voldemort-" I smirked when he flinched "-doesn't affect me. I just wanted to let you know that I don't trust you, nor do I trust your relationship with her. She says you two were together for a month? If so, where was she at the World Cup? I didn't see her in the Top Box with you. What, your daddy couldn't afford another ticket? Somehow I doubt that."

"Are you accusing me of-?"

"Tell me: what is it you want from her? I can think of a few things she has that you're lacking - decent parents, brains, a house elf - but I don't think even _you_ would get into a relationship for any of that. So what is it?"

"Excuse me, Dacey, but you, as a Mudblood, have no right to question my motives. Now, I'll be in the fourth car from the back with my girlfriend. I'm sure she would love for you to join, if you want. Oh wait, I seem to have forgotten. You don't publicly speak to purebloods unless they're poor and Muggle-loving." He laughed and started to walk away.

"Just don't hurt her, Malfoy!" I called after him desperately. "I can think up some pretty nasty ways to get back at you if you do!"

He pretended not to hear me and continued walking. I sighed, turned on my heel, and walked back to where the Weasleys were just getting on the train.

Fred, George, and I sat in a separate compartment from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. As the Hogwarts Express left the station, the three of us began discussing Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The twins informed me that Ludo Bagman, instead of honestly giving them their winnings, payed them back in Leprechaun gold, which disappeared in their pockets. When Lee Jordan walked in, we abruptly stopped talking about the various poisonous potions we could slip into his drink. After we got the money, of course.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was completely uneventful. We all filed into the castle and watched as the first years were Sorted. I had been in that crowd the past year.

I had had no idea how I was going to be Sorted into whatever House I would be in. Professor Snape never got into details about that. All I knew was that he wanted me to be in Slytherin. So on the day of my Sorting, I was incredibly nervous, both because I had no idea what was going to happen and because everyone else waiting to be sorted was like three years younger than me. My nerves were calmed a bit when I realized that everyone just had to put a hat on their heads, but I still hated being the single fourteen-year-old in the midst of eleven-year-olds, and I was to be the last one Sorted. When I stepped up to put the Hat on my head, of course Dumbledore had to make an announcement about my newness, and Americanness, making my face burn under the heat of all the eyes upon me. Finally it was over, and I could slip the overly large hat on my head. After only a couple of seconds, it shouted "GRYFFINDOR!!"

The Gryffindors clapped and I awkwardly took the first open seat I could find. It was between two seventh years who, after congratulating me on my Sorting, refused to talk to me for the entire dinner. So I spent the whole time sulking and mentally apologizing to Snape for not getting myself into Slytherin.

After dinner, I had snuck out of the castle, needing my space. After being nearly killed by Fang the boarhound (just kidding, though he did tackle me to the ground), I decided not to take any more risks and went back inside. I instantly got lost, only knowing where the Slytherin common room was. Walking quickly around a corner, I literally ran into a boy. He was red-haired, and I instantly noticed that he was pretty cute. He introduced himself to me as Fred Weasley and escorted me to Gryffindor Tower. He was officially the first Hogwartian friend I made.

After this year's Sorting, and after Hermione found out about the house-elves working in the kitchen (of whom I had known about since before last school year) and refused to continue eating the wonderful meal set before us, Dumbledore called us all to silence. After announcing (with a smile) that Filch's list of forbidden items had expanded, he said:

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Harry, on the other side of the table, was shocked. "What?!" he gasped. I, on the other hand, was thrilled. "Yes!" I exclaimed, a bit louder than under my breath. George punched me.

Dumbledore continued: "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy- but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

Just then, the doors of the Great Hall crashed open, making all the students jump. In the doorway stood a man in a black cloak leaning on a cane. I sudden fork of lightning sent by the god of drama illuminated his face; I saw that it was terribly scarred, and one of his eyes was electric blue, compared to the other dark, beady one. The blue eye was rolling non-stop in its socket, unblinking. The man walked to Dumbledore, every other step a dull _thud._ He took a seat at the teachers' table.

Dumbledore said brightly, "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody." Nobody clapped but Dumbledore and Hagrid.

Eventually, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" Fred said loudly. We all laughed.

"I am _not_ joking, Mr. Weasley," he replied. He went on to explain, for all of us (including me) who didn't know, that the Triwizard Tournament was a competition between three wizards - one each from the schools Hogwarts, Beauxbatons (handsome sticks?) and Durmstrang - who would complete three tasks throughout the year. It had been discontinued for a century because of the alarming death toll (excellent, we should throw Draco Malfoy in there), but this year, only wizards who were of age would be allowed to enter. The students and heads of Prettysticks (yeah, that sounds better than Handsomesticks) and Durmstrang would arrive in October, and on Halloween, an "impartial judge" would pick the most worthy student from each school. And best of all, there would be a cash prize of 1000 Galleons to the winner. Too bad I couldn't enter! I could do better magic than most sixth years! And if worse ever came to worst, I was wonderfully skilled in the _Avada Kedavra_ and _Crucio_ curses.

"And now," Dumbledore concluded, "it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

As all the other students stood up to go to their common rooms, I continued sitting and looked to the teacher's table. My eyes found Professor Snape, who was looking at me. Of course, he knew what I was asking, but shook his head and looked away. No lesson tonight, then. I stood up, disappointed, and left for the Gryffindor common room with Fred, George, Ginny, and the Golden Trio, all of whom were debating about whether or not one could trick the "impartial judge" to let them enter.

Once in the common room, I sent Artemis out with a quick letter to my mom (I had been assured multiple times last year that these were _magical_ owls and could certainly make the trip) informing her about the World Cup and my first day back at Hogwarts and asking her about Sirius; then I went to sleep.


	8. "A Ferret, a Spider, and Three Curses" -Lish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UUUGGGGHHHH.  
> Y'all have no idea how frustrated I am. So what I have written of this work so far is all in this notebook that I have, so each week when I post I have to type up the whole thing. It's very time-consuming, and just typing it up (not including rereading for mistakes and any further editing that I want to do) takes literally hours. So I was happily typing up this chapter... I was over two thirds of the way through... it was nine and I had started at 7:30... and then BAM! I accidentally hit the fricking tab button and suddenly all my work was gone. Can somebody tell me what the HELL that was about?!?!??? WHY??? AND LITERALLY ON THE FIRST CHAPTER THAT SHOWS MY RELATIONSHIP WITH THE GOOD PROFESSOR SNAPE. I WAS CRYING THE FIRST TIME I ATTEMPTED TO TYPE IT UP, WHY DO I HAVE TO FRICKING RELIVE IT AGAIN. WHY. WHY DOES VOLDEMORT HAVE TO FRICKING RUIN LIVES. I HATE HIM. I DON'T CARE IF HE'S DEAD I WANT HIM TO COME BACK TO LIFE SO I CAN CRUCIO HIM AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN.
> 
> I'm sorry. I got a bit carried away. I've had a really hard life and everyone I love is dead and now I'm going to have to stay up until twelve to get you this chapter and all you Muggles are freaking out over the freaking Cursed Child thing that's coming out in a week and of course neither I nor my kids are going to be included AGAIN even though one of my kids will be in Albus Severus's year (wow, Alisha Dacey DOESN'T die a virgin! Wow! Miracle!) and obviously there won't even be an inkling of truth to the story because it hasn't even HAPPENED yet.
> 
> I apologize again. I'll get to the story. Enjoy.

First week of school or not, the following week was of little importance, except for three key events. First, the, um, _unfortunate_ encounter between Malfoy and Professor Moody, second, my first late-night lesson with Snape, and third, my first DADA class.

 

It was the first day of classes when what would forever be known as the Famous Ferret Scene of Fourth Year occurred. Harry, Ron, and I were walking from Divination, and Hermione had joined us, when we noticed Malfoy, Grabbe, Goyle, and Amber, the latter looking as if she didn't want to be there. Malfoy had a smug look on his face as he exclaimed, "Your dad's in the paper, Weasley! Listen to this!"

He continued to read from the _Daily Prophet_ a Rita Skeeter article about how Mr. Weasley had caused an "undignified and potentially embarrassing scene" as he went to aid Moody the day before. Ron seemed to be taking the bullying fairly well, until Malfoy decided to start insulting the family picture, particularly his mother.

"Shut up, Malfoy," I said when I noticed Ron's face beginning to get red. "C'mon Ron."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Dacey?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky or is it just the picture?"

"Draco..." Amber warned.

"You know _your_ mother, Malfoy?" Harry interjected, grabbing the back of Ron's robes along with Hermione to keep him from lunging at Malfoy. "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it because you were with her?"

Malfoy's face got pink, and I had to give it to Harry. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter," he said darkly. Scarily.

"Keep your fat mouth shut then," Harry said, and turned away.

I saw Malfoy raise his wand and shouted, "NO!" It was too late. Malfoy shot a curse at Harry, but thankfully it missed. I drew my wand and saw Harry do the same, but before either of us could act, there was a loud BANG! and a loud roar from the entrance hall:

"OH NO YOU DON'T LADDIE!"

I turned on my heel to see Moody limping down the steps, his wand arm extended. I heard a scream come from Amber, and turned to see what caused it. In a pile on the floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing, was a pure white ferret. I laughed as realization dawned. Amber screamed again, "Draco!"

"Did he get you?" Moody asked Harry in a low voice.

"No, missed."

Amber had moved to pick up the ferret (and a brief thought about laws against bestiality flashed through my mind), but Moody shouted, "LEAVE IT!"

"Leave - what?" Harry asked. He obviously wasn't looking at the ferret.

"Not you, her!" Amber had already stopped, whether terrified of Moody or just surprised at his nerve, I didn't know. The professor limped towards the Slytherins, the Ravenclaw, and the ferret (hey, could be the name of a rock band. A Wizard Rock band.), the latter of whom attempted to run off.

"I don't think so!" Moody roared. He pointed his wand at the ferret and it flew ten feet into the air, landed on the floor, and bounced up again. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned... Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..." With each bounce, the ferret flew higher and higher.

Amber finally plucked up her courage, though her face was white. "Professor Moody! Stop this now!" When he ignored her, she added, "Professor, please! That's a student!"

Moody - my new hero - continued to ignore her. "Never - do - that - again -" he said, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor.

"Professor Moody!" This was McGonagall, and I instantly stopped laughing.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody said calmly, not ceasing his bouncing of the ferret.

"What - what are you doing..?" She surveyed the scene: Crabbe and Goyle looking as confused as ever, Amber's face white as paper, Hermione looking slightly concerned, Harry, Ron, and me with tears of laughter wetting our faces, the large crowd of students gathered, and, of course, the ferret.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach- Moody, _is that a student?_ " She dropped her books in shock.

"Yep."

"No!" She ran down the steps, pointing her wand at the bouncing ferret. A moment later, Malfoy reappeared bridal-style in Amber's arms. McGonagall rounded on Moody.

"Moody, we _never_ use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that? We give detentions! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

Moody looked unconcerned. "I'll do that then." He turned to Malfoy, who now had one arm around Amber and was muttering about what his father would be hearing about.

"Oh yeah?" Moody said, limping towards him. "Well, I know your father of old, boy. You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son... you tell him that for me. Now, your Head of House'll be Snape. will it? Good. Another old friend. I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. Come on, you-" He grabbed Malfoy, wrenched him out of Amber's arms, and marched him away.

After a moment, McGonagall picked up her fallen books and walked off, and the students all began to disperse. The Golden Trio and I went to the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said dreamily. I looked at him curiously.

"Why not?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever. Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret..."

 

Later that day, after classes were over and I went to the kitchens to help the house-elves (which I did at least a couple of times each week) before eating dinner with the twins, it was time for my first late-night lesson of the year with Snape. I was so excited, as I had been denied a lesson the night before and I was really in the mood for some complicated magic. I had cornered the Professor earlier that day and made sure that he would not be backing out of our lesson again.

I snuck out of the common room, down to the dungeons, and past Filch's office and the Slytherin common room. Finally, I reached the heavy wooden door that led to Snape's office. Knocking was futile, as the door was so heavy, so I just opened it and entered.

The room was dark, dank, and cold. Jars filled with mysterious substances floating in fluid lined shelves, glinting menacingly in light from an unknown source. There was a single desk, piled high with books. Aside from the rich velvet carpet on the floor, all was heavy wood or stone. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw that there was no living creature in sight apart from a huge, hairy tarantula on the desk.

"Severus!" I exclaimed, my face lighting up. Suddenly, the spider transformed into Professor Snape. Unknown to Rita Skeeter (although it was heavily - I presume subconsciously - implied in her books), he was an Animagus. He didn't try to hide the slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Alisha," he responded.

"C'mon," I pushed, "Say it."

He grimaced, but still said, "Hello... _Lish._ "

I grinned. "There we go! I knew you had it in you!" Ever since last year, when other people began calling me Lish, I had asked Snape to do the same. He undoubtedly refused. So I said that I would just have to call him Severus until he called me Lish. It'd become a bit of an inside joke between us. Not that Snape could joke.

I sat down in a chair. "So what'll be our big project this year, Sev? Patronuses? Or have we given up on that?"

Last year, with all the Dementors around, Snape had tried to teach me to cast a Patronus. All I could get was a feeble wisp of blue. I suppose that made casting a Patronus the single bit of magic that Harry could do better than me. "Boy-Who-Lived" my-

The Professor shook his head. "Attempting a Patronus has run its course. Keep trying on your own, but we will begin a different study together. You've heard of Occlumency?"

I shook my head. He looked disappointed. "Occlumency is when a wizard shields his mind from an outside force. It takes a skilled wizard to use Legilimency - to extract your thoughts - so you must be even more skilled to prevent him from doing it."

I decided to let his use of the general "wizard" and "him" pass. "So I'm gonna be learning to protect myself against mind readers?"

"Improper terms, Dacey! One does not _read_ the mind! The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure!"

"Alright, chill," I said, putting my hands up in surrender, but smiling. "So tell me, how does one do this 'Occlumency' thing which totally does not sound like protecting your mind from mind readers? Like this?" I put two fingers to each of my temples and squeezed my eyes shut, as if in intense concentration. When I opened them again, I found Snape smiling once more. I prided my ability to make him smile, even if it was condescendingly. He was always so broody everywhere outside of our lessons.

"No," he said, then turned serious again. "You must clear your mind. Forget all emotion and all emotional thought. Take a deep breath, and when you release it, release all the stress of the day."

"So basically you're asking me to do the meditation exercises my sixth grade guidance counselor had me do?"

"There is no time for playing, Alisha," he said. He seemed serious, so I decided to stop. "I will be using the incantation for Legilimency, but Dark wizards acting against you will not. You must always be prepared, although when you are more advanced, you will be able to feel attacks on your mind. Now, prepare."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The sixth grade meditation sessions made me quite skilled at clearing my mind - or so I thought - so when I released the breath, I felt my thoughts go with it.

" _Legilimens!_ " Suddenly, I saw scenes - memories - flash before my eyes. Myself peeking into my mother's room when I was about five; my mother crying silently. I didn't know - couldn't possibly have understood at the time - that this was caused by her depression, her loneliness. When I was seven, the car ride after we had adopted and were taking home the one-year-old Kelsie. In seventh grade, the time I nearly scared to death, using magic, a seven-year-old boy who was bullying Kelsie because she was adopted; this wasn't my first feat of magic, but it was definitely the most powerful, and the first time I realized that something may have been off about me...

I came back to my senses in the cold dungeon. I hadn't lost consciousness, no, but I had become so engrossed in my own memories that I had forgotten where I was. The Professor didn't look impressed.

"Try harder," he said curtly. " _Legilimens!_ " No further instructions, no encouragement, nothing. Just _Legilimens_. The ingrate.

I knew he really loved me at heart.

I tried my best to block Snape out of my mind for the next few hours. Each time, I got increasingly tired, even physically (although I wasn't quite sure how that was possible). Still, the time flew and I was eventually told then I had to leave for bed, with the order to clear myself of emotion every night before I slept. I was shocked that he was telling me to go so early, until I saw it was eleven. Reluctantly, I left the dungeon and climbed up to Gryffindor Tower, crawled into my bed, and instantly fell dead asleep.

 

That Thursday saw the Gryffindor's first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. We had been looking forward to it for quite a long time, as we had heard mysterious things about Mad-Eye Moody (and Fred and George refused to tell me _anything_ about his classes!). All the Gryffindors arrived early at the class, except for Hermione who had been spending excessive amounts of time at the library. We waited in silence for Moody to come, our books on our desks. Finally, after seemingly forever, he limped in and told us to put our books away. We wouldn't be needing them.

We would, he said, be learning about curses, which Lupin had neglected to teach us. "So!" he said after a long introduction which could have been shortened to "This is totally illegal, but Dumbledore says it's okay, so cool!" "Do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizard law?"

Yes. The Unforgivable Curses: _Imperio, Crucio,_ and _Avada Kedavra._ And not only did I know _of_ them, I could _cast_ them. And I had. Multiple times. It was fun. (My God, no wonder Snape and I got along so well.) My hand shot high into the air, and a few others were raised tentatively. Moody called on Ron.

"My dad told me about one... Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?" Or something.

"Ah yes," said Moody approvingly. "Your father would know about that one. Gave the Ministry quite a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

He then reached into a drawer and took out a jar containing three spiders. He caught one and put it on his desk, then muttered _Imperio!_ The spider began doing a routine that would have been at home in... I didn't know... _Cirque de Soleil_ or something as Moody waved his wand around. We all laughed, even me who had experienced the curse first-hand. Moody, however, stayed silent and serious (Sirius).

"You think it's funny, do you? You'd like it if I did it to you?" We immediately stopped laughing, and Moody continued. "Total control. I could make it jump out the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats..." Looks of horror were beginning to dawn on the Gryffindors' faces. "This curse provided some job for the Ministry years ago, trying to sort out who was being forced to act by Dark wizards and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it's better to avoid being hit if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

We all jumped. Moody put the spider back in the jar. "Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

This time, along with me and Hermione, Neville, who was sitting next to me, raised his had. I didn't think of Neville as one to know the Unforgivable Curses, and was surprised that he did.

"Yes?" Moody called on him.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse." He sounded scared, as if just speaking the name of the curse was taboo.

"Your name's Longbottom?" Moody fixed him with an intense gaze. Neville nodded. Moody turned away and took the second spider out of the jar. We made it larger so that we could see better. I thought for a split second that it was about the size of Snape in his Animagus form before Moody said, " _Crucio!_ " I did not have to know the effects of the Cruciatus Curse to know that the spider was in intense pain. Its legs folded in and it rolled around the desk in a little ball. I felt Neville tense up next to me. He was staring transfixed at the spider, his eyes wide with horror, his knuckles white from clenching the desk.

"Stop it!" I shouted at Moody. He looked up at me, then Neville, then removed the curse from the spider, which lay twitching on the desk. He started talking again, but I was more concerned with Neville, who seemed to be stuck as if Petrified in the same position. I took his hand and squeezed it gently, and he was jolted back into reality. He lost most of the stiffness and his eyes focused, but he remained extra jittery. I refused to let go of his hand for the remainder of the lesson, just to keep him grounded.

"Anyone know any others?" Moody asked. Hermione and my hands went up again, hers hesitantly but mine like a bullet. "You seem very eager to give the answer."

" _Avada Kedavra_ ," I said confidently. Moody gave me a wary look, probably suspecting that I was a sadistic murderer.

"Yes. The last and worst. _Avada Kedavra,_ the Killing Curse." Moody took the third spider out of the jar, and killed it with a flash of green light.

The class was dismissed twenty minutes later to the excited chattering of all - most - of the my classmates. I however, hung back with Neville to make sure he was mentally stable. I guided him away from the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Neville, are you okay? What happened?"

"Oh no - nothing," he replied in an unusually high-pitched voice. "Very unusual way of teaching Professor Moody has, that's all." He gave a little twitch, as if Moody had used the curse on _him_. I got the thought that maybe someone _had_ used it on him in the past. That would explain his reaction to seeing it done to another creature.

"Nobody's used the Cruciatus Curse on you, have they?"

"What?" His voice rose to a new, higher pitch. "No - no! Not on me!" His eyes widened, and he tried to back up in his panic, just to find a wall behind him. The Golden Trio decided that that was the right moment to intercede.

"Neville?" Hermione said tentatively.

"Oh, hello!" Neville took advantage of the chance to avoid my questioning. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? What's for dinner, I'm starving!"

"Neville, are you alright?" Hermione inquired.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine - what's with all the questioning? Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"

Professor Moody came limping to us, and we all fell silent. "Why don't you come up to my office?" he said to Neville. "We can have a cup of tea."

Neville seemed terrified and didn't move or speak. Moody, therefore, made the decision for him and dragged him off, saying, "Come on, Longbottom. I've got some books that might interest you."

"What was that about?" asked Ron.

"Lish!" someone called. I turned to see Fred, George, and Lee waving me over. I joined them, and we walked to the Great Hall together for dinner.


	9. "The Goblet of Fire" -Fred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the angry note last week, it was late and I was tired. Anyway, I'm much happier now, for two reasons: one, this is the last week of the camp at Ilvermorny and soon I'll get to go home, and two, well, that's also the reason why I'm posting so late. Cursed Child. I'm going to assume that every fan in the world has read the script by now, so it doesn't matter if I say spoilers. (That was a spoiler alert, if you didn't know.) Oh my gosh was that hilarious or what? I'm no longer angry at not being included in it; I would almost be ashamed if I was. In fact, I wouldn't WANT to be included in anything where Rita (and two probably Muggles) think they can raise Severus from the dead (for eighteen glorious pages!) and not Fred as well. And not even a line from Neville! How dare they! It reads like glorified fanfiction because that's what it is. None of this has happened yet! And guess what: it won't. All the Time-Turners are destroyed. There's actually nobody named Astoria Malfoy. Voldemort doesn't have a child. Malfoy, who had his eye on Bellatrix the whole time she was at Malfoy Manor, can assure it. Just nope.
> 
> I'm convinced that this is all a scam to hide what really happens in the play. How else would everyone who's seen it be saying that it's so good? And why else would Rita have been so keen for everyone to "#KeepTheSecrets"? And for that reason, I plan to drag everyone I know to a performance of it. It's already sold out in London, I believe, so we'll just have to go somewhere else. 
> 
> Enough of that. Enjoy this chapter!

On October 30, students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived at Hogwarts. Lish, George, and I had been looking forward to the feast that would undoubtedly take place, because it would hopefully be a break both from having to figure out how to get our money back from Bagman and from having to avoid Hermione, who had been trying to persuade us to join her Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (S.P.E.W.) all week. George, Lish, and I all flatly refused - in fact, we laughed her off - because we knew that house-elves _enjoyed_ being enslaved. She had been glaring at us ever since.

All the Hogwarts students lined up by the Great Lake to greet our guests. It was cold, but we were all heated by the excitement in the air. How were they going to arrive? George insisted that the Durmstrang students would arrive on the backs of dragons, and Lish thought that the French would obviously come on broomsticks, hence their name. I broke the news to her that their "handsome sticks" probably referred to their wands. She didn't take it well.

After a long time, Lish and George were both proven wrong. The Beauxbatons students flew down from the sky not on broomsticks but in a giant carriage pulled by giant horses. The giantness of their means of transport was explained when a giant woman stepped out of it. Only Hagrid was as giant as her, and a disgusting image flashed through my mind of them having giant babies.

"Oh my God..." Lish said, amazed.

"...she's..." continued George.

"... _giant_." I concluded.

Once the giant headmistress, Madame Maxime, and her considerably less giant students entered Hogwarts, the Durmstrang students arrived. Unlike the French, they came from a ship that rose from the depths of the Great Lake. As they filed out and headmaster, Karkaroff, exchanged a few words with Dumbledore, I searched the students for-

"Krum!" George hissed enthusiastically.

"Krum?" Lish asked, but we were too preoccupied to take notice. Viktor Krum was there with the Durmstrang students, looking like Durmstrang-champion material with his big fur coat, large nose, and thick eyebrows. George and I dragged Lish closer to where Krum was passing and searched frantically for a quill.

"Wait a sec, guys," Lish demanded, getting our attention. "Who on earth is Krum, and why on earth are you two - and everyone else, I notice - turning into hormonal twelve-year-olds at the sight of him - her - it..."

"I was going for hormonal teenager, at least," George muttered. I ignored him.

"Were you actually paying no attention at the Quidditch World Cup, you uncultured-"

"Oh, it's a Quidditch thing," Lish cut me off. "Yeah, I was paying actually zero attention. But I remember now. He was Bulgaria's Seeker, or something."

Or something.

George and I failed to get a quill before Krum passed, so we just followed the rest of the Hogwarts students into the Great Hall for the feast. The Beauxbatons students sat with the Ravenclaws and the Durmstrang students with the Slytherins. We were left Krumless.

The two foreign headmasters sat on either side of Dumbledore, and next to them, Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman, the swine. Lish elbowed me to get my attention, then mouthed, " _Crucio_ ," reiterating her idea of using the curse on him. I grinned, but shook my head. She looked sad, but I was sure she knew that we could never actually do that, no matter how tempting it was.

Dumbledore gave a short (for him) speech welcoming our guests, then introduced the "impartial judge," the Goblet of Fire. Students entering would have to place their names in the Goblet, and Dumbledore would place an Age Line around it to make sure no underage wizards entered. The champions would be selected the next day, on Halloween.

Once Dumbledore was finished speaking, food appeared on our plates and we started eating.

"An Age Line!" I said, excitedly. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in the Goblet, it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"I don't think anyone under seventeen'll stand a chance. We just haven't learned enough," said Hermione.

"I'm all for the idea," Lish said, "and I certainly think that _I_ , at least, have learned enough, but I doubt that Dumbledore wouldn't think of Aging Potions when drawing the Line."

Ron, who was sitting next to her, pulled her ponytail. "Smartie Lishie definitely knows enough." He pulled her hair again. "Smartie Lishie always knows what Dumbledore thinks."

She smacked his hand. "First of all, it's not smart, it's experienced. _Second_ of all, do you have a crush on me or something? That's what eleven year old boys do to their crushes."

"Me?" Ron said, grinning. " _Never_. My brother? Certainly!" Lish and George both punched him, then I leaned over Lish to punch him harder. George and my faces were both bright red. Ron looked at the enchanted ceiling so as not to look at either of us. "What?" he said to it. "I'm just trying to get you two together. I'm trying to _help_ you. But if you don't want my help, I won't give it."

He then continued eating, and we all followed his cue, though much more tensely and quietly than before his comments. After we finished eating, everyone went to their respective sleeping quarters. Lish made us promise to wait for her the next day before trying to put our names in the Goblet of Fire.

 

The next day, the Gryffindor fourth year girls were woken up by a loud banging on their door. Lish opened it, saw who it was, then grinned and closed it to get changed.

"Who was that?" we heard Lavender Brown ask.

"Fred and George."

"Ooo!" Lavender squealed. "Has your knight finally come to his senses and has come to fulfill your - OW!" Someone must have punched her. George and I looked at each other. Obviously Ron's comments had traveled. Great.

A few minutes later, Lish came out fully dressed and shut the door behind her on Lavender sniggering and rubbing her arm as Hermione gave her a murderous look. "How did you get up the stairs?" she asked. "They're supposed to turn into a slide when boys try to go up them."

"We're special," George replied.

She stared for a second, probably wondering if it was worth it to push it. She decided it wasn't. "So, where to?"

"Follow us," I said. We led her down to the common room where we picked up Lee Jordan, out the portrait hole, and to the prefects' bathroom (ooo, scandalous). Praise Merlin that it was empty. Lee retrieved our stock of Aging Potion from an out-of-order stall and held it out as if it was sacred. "Behold," he said, "our key to fame and riches."

George explained to Lish, "If one of us gets in and wins, we're splitting the gold three ways-"

"-four if you join in," I added.

Lish stayed silent.

"C'mon Lish," George pleaded, "you can do better magic than seventh years."

"I can't make a Patronus," she countered.

"Well some people are naturally grumpier than others," I said. "I'm sure if you had what would make you happiest right now you could..."

She just stared at me.

"You can do all three Unforgivable Curses," George said. "Judges'll be impressed by that. And if not, you can _Avada Kedavra_ them."

Lish turned to stare at George. "And then go to Azkaban. Or probably just get the Dementor's Kiss on the spot. No thanks."

"They really want you to enter," Lee said, amused.

"You know what, guys?" she said finally. "I'll take the Aging Potion, and if you all get your names in successfully, I'll put mine in too. Happy?"

"Very!" George and I exclaimed. George even hugged her and kissed her cheek, making her go pink.

"It'll only require a mouthful, since we only have to be a year older," Lee said. He tipped back his head and poured a bit of the potion into his mouth. George was next, then me, then Lish (who muttered something about not believing in family germs). We all wrote our names and school on pieces of parchment and put them in our pockets.

"It should wear off in a few hours," I said. "Let's go!"

We walked down to the entrance hall where many students were already crowded around the Goblet of Fire, which had a thin gold line with a radius of about ten feet around it. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were there with everyone else.

"Done it!" I announced to them. "Just taken it!"

"What?" Ron asked.

"Aging Potion, dung brains. Ready guys?"

"Ready," George, Lish, and Lee responded. I was pleased to see that even Lish wore an excited grin on her face.

"I'll go first, then." I took the bit of parchment with my name on it our of my pocket, and after a brief moment of hesitation, I stepped past the Line into the circle. After a second of nothing happening, I grinned and everyone cheered, and George jumped in beside me.

Suddenly, there was a huge sizzling noise, and George and I were thrown back ten feet, landing painfully. Everyone laughed, and it took me a second to realize what they were laughing at - then I looked at George and saw that he was sporting a long white beard, not unlike Dumbledore's. He and I both started howling with laughter. Lish and Lee, both laughing as well, helped us to our feet.

Dumbledore appeared out of the Great Hall. "I did warn you, but as you did not take heed of my warning, I suggest you two go see Madam Pomfrey." He looked amused.

Lee and Lish accompanied us to the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey had us cleanshaven in time to catch the end of breakfast and see Angelina put her name in the Goblet. I really hoped she was Hogwart's champion.

 

The feast that night saw the selection of the students who would be competing in the Triwizard Tournament. After we had finished eating, Dumbledore called everyone to attention, that the Goblet was about to make its decision. After a minute, the blue flames in the Goblet turned red, and a single piece of parchment shot out. Dumbledore grasped it out of the air.

"The champion from Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!"

Everyone cheered, and George and I let out a couple of long whistles. Krum stood up and walked through the door behind the teachers' table, as the champions had been told to do.

"The champion from Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

Everyone but the Beauxbatons students clapped as a stunningly pretty girl stood up and walked gracefully to the same room as Krum.

"And finally, the Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuffs were quite literally screaming as Cedric followed the same path as the two champions before him, grinning and giving other Hufflepuffs high-fives.

Dumbledore quieted the crowd and began speaking again, only to be interrupted once more by the Goblet. It turned red and spit out yet another piece of parchment. Dumbledore plucked it out of the air and held it out in front of him. His eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open. After a tense moment, he said, "Harry Potter."

Harry just sat there for a moment, a shocked look on  his face. I was shocked too and would have to ask him how he got his name into the Goblet. Harry was called up, and he also went into the champions' room, followed by Karkaroff, Maxime, Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall. Instantly, everyone erupted into angry conversation.

Lee began, "How did he-?" But Lish instantly cut him off.

"Now, guys, before anyone starts asking how he put his name in, consider that maybe he _didn't._ "

We stared at her, Lee's mouth still open, but Hermione seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "She's right; it would take very experienced magic to trick that Goblet."

"And as we all know, Harry can't do very experienced magic."

Hermione gave her a nasty look, but added, "Nor would he _want_ to do the Dark magic required to fool the Goblet."

The rest of us - the boys, as Ginny wisely decided to stay out of it - protested loudly; both sides were equally persistent. After a few minutes, the remaining teachers came to their senses and dismissed us. We ran to the common room, cheering, and once we got there hurried to arrange a party in Harry's honor.

A quarter of an hour later, Harry came in through the portrait hole. Everyone cheered.

"You should have told us you entered!" I shouted over the noise.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" George said.

For the next half hour, the Gryffindors all tried to get an answer out of Harry, but he wouldn't tell how he did it. I hadn't noticed that neither Ron, Hermione, nor Lish were in the common room, but after we had made enough noise, Lish came downstairs and escorted Harry up to his room.

Me, George, and the rest of the Gryffindors followed them almost all the way to the door, but Lish eventually rounded on us, wand drawn, eyes murderous. "Everyone back away and let Harry sleep, or I swear to God that I will _Crucio_ you all.

We knew her well enough to take her word for it and went back down to the common room.


	10. "The Journalist and the Prophecy" -Lish

A few days after the Day That Famous Harry Potter Was Chosen Out of the Goblet marked the day that changed my future forever... the Infamous Rita Skeeter Incident.

It all started before double Potions one day. Harry and Malfoy got into a fight, because (of course) Malfoy once again called Hermione a Mudblood. He and Harry both attacked at the same time - the curses hit and ricocheted off each other. Harry's hit Goyle (or Crabbe, it's not like I could tell them apart) who developed boils and Draco's hit Hermione whose front teeth began to grow... and grow... and grow.

Snape chose that moment to come out of the classroom. He surveyed the situation and healed Crabbe (or Goyle) with a tap of his wand.

"Professor Snape!" Harry said. "Malfoy cursed Hermione..."

Snape's dark eyes found Hermione, who was trying to hide her teeth behind her hands. "I see no difference," he said coldly.

"Severus!" I cried in outrage, then went red when I realized what I had said.

"To class, Dacey. Granger."

"No," I said, shocked at my own daring.

"Excuse me?" I hated to admit it, but there were times Professor Snape _did_ terrify me.

"Must I spell it out for you, _Professor_? I said no, I will not be attending class, I will be escorting my fellow _Mudblood_ to the hospital wing. Thank you." He didn't speak as I grabbed Hermione's elbow and led her away.

Halfway to the hospital wing, Hermione and I ran into Amber. "Hello, Amber!" I said with false cheer. "Look what your boyfriend just did to my Mudblood friend!"

Her eyes widened. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Hermione. I promise to talk to Draco about this later-"

"Oh, no, Amber, I'm sure Hermione would appreciate it if you would accompany us to the hospital wing, all the while apologizing on Malfoy's behalf."

"Look, Lish, as much as I would love to, I'm already late for Charms-"

"Well, thanks for volunteering!" I said, then grabbed her arm and dragged her along with me. I didn't know what had possessed me to treat her so horribly, perhaps it was just lingering anger at Malfoy. Or perhaps I somehow knew that this series of ~~(~~ ~~unfortunate)~~ events would change our lives...

Almost two hours later, Hermione told us just to leave the hospital wing without her. Amber and I obliged. We didn't talk as we walked the halls, since she was still angry at me (and rightfully so). Then, as we rounded a corner, we ran into a woman in bright green robes. She was pretty, had light blonde hair - well, you know what J.K. Rowling looks like. She looked startled, as if she had been sneaking around.

"Erm, who are you?" Amber asked.

"Why, my name is Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet_ reporter." Her eyes skimmed over Amber and found me. "Do you happen to be Alisha Dacey? The _famous_ Alisha Dacey?"

"I'm- famous?" I knew that my entrance into Hogwarts was a bit strange, but I didn't think I was _famous._

"Oh yes, yes! Would you mind a brief interview with me for the _Prophet_? Your friend can say a few words as well."

If I had had a choice, I would have actually considered it. I wouldn't have lied to myself by saying that I didn't want the fame, but I also knew what this Skeeter woman's idea of "fame" was. However, I didn't get a chance to think about it, as Rita pulled me and Amber into the nearest empty classroom. She took out a piece of parchment and a quill, the latter of which was enchanted to write by itself.

"So! Would you like to begin by telling me your names and Houses?"

"I'm Alisha Dacey, Gryffindor-"

"-and I'm Amber Perlis, Ravenclaw."

"Perlis... an old wizarding name, isn't it? But of course I've heard of your family. Very close to the Malfoys, I believe?"

"No, not most of my family. I, however, am - er - friends with Draco."

"Mhm," Rita said. I couldn't help but notice that her quill was writing words far from what was being said: " _Draco and I have been dating for white a while," Amber Perlis of Ravenclaw said, the open adoration visible on her attractive face as she spoke of Draco Malfoy, of Slytherin. "I really think that he may be the one."_

"And you, Miss Dacey?" she asked, distracting me from watching the quill. "How does it feel, constantly being in the shadow of Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived - and all your pureblood friends?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you ever feel resentful of them? Yes, your story of how you got into Hogwarts is very unique, but perhaps you still feel that this is not enough to counter the fame and status of your peers."

"Um... no. I actually don't pay much attention to blood status, and Harry Potter is pretty modest for the most part..."

I was once again distracted by her quill: _Miss Dacey's attractive face turned suddenly tearful at the sensitive question. "I don't usually admit this to anyone, but I often feel really oppressed at school. Most of the time, nobody but Hermione Granger, another Muggleborn, and Amber will talk to me. Harry can really be a prat because of my blood status, and I'm terrified that my status will prevent me from getting the only boy I've ever wanted in the world: [more research necessary; must be pureblood]._

"I'm sorry, _what_?" I exclaimed, standing up. "First of all, what is it with you and the term 'attractive face'? Second, I am _not_ crying. And third, 'more research necessary; must be pureblood'? What, you have to find the perfect person for me to have a crush on? Here, take a pick of the purebloods I know: Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Ernie Macmillan, any of the Slytherins- oh! Cedric Diggory! You could have fun with that one!"

"Please sit down, dear," she said calmly, though I saw her quill furiously scribble out the 'more research necessary' bit and write in 'Cedric Diggory.' "Now, tell me more about Harry Potter. What do you think the odds are for his survival in the Tournament?"

"No thanks, Rita, I'm done with questions. Let's go, Amber."

Amber was all too happy to leave, but Rita wasn't giving up yet. "Miss Perlis! How do you feel about the oppression of Muggleborns? Why is it that you feel the need to take Miss Dacey under your wing?"

"'Under my wing'? No further questions, please." We began walking towards the door.

"Why did you start a ' _friendship_ ' with Mr. Malfoy? Was it for the money, the status, the power, or the closeness to You-Know-Who?"

Both of us turned on our heel in shock and said, not for the first time in the past ten minutes, " _Excuse me?!?_ " Amber walked back to Rita so quickly and angrily that I thought she was going to strangle her with her bare hands. "What did you just say?"

"Did you just accuse her of being in league with _Voldemort?_ " I reached Amber's side and leaned over the still sitting Rita, who flinched at His name.

"Did you just accuse _Draco_ of being in league with- with You-Know-Who?"

"You know what, Rita? I've read your _Daily Prophet_ articles, and all you do is try to ruin people's lives. Amber and I don't want our lives ruined, so we're leaving."

We turned once again to leave.

"Miss Dacey-"

I turned around again, took out my wand, and pressed the tip to her chest. "Roses are red; violets are blue. If you ever come near either of us again, I swear I'll _Crucio_ you."

Amber took hold of my wand wrist, and we walked to the door.

"I have a promise for you, too!" Rita yelled, a hint of hysteria in her voice. "I promise- I promise never to give you fame!"

"Good," Amber countered. "We don't want the 'fame' you have to give us!"

We slammed the classroom door behind us, then looked at each other in silence for a second before bursting out laughing.

 

That night proved also to be monumental. I went down to lessons with Snape as usual (planning to be cold towards him after what he did to Hermione) to find neither man nor spider waiting for me. Instead, there was a note on the desk in Snape's handwriting: " _Headmaster's office - password is 'Acid Pops.'"_ Well then. He couldn't even tell me in person.

It only occurred to me for a second that I might have been in trouble as I flew up to Dumbledore's office in bird form (since I didn't feel like walking back up stairs). I transformed back into a human to give the password to the gargoyle, then climbed up the steps to the office (Dumble)door. (I'm incredibly sorry for the bad pun.) I opened it to find the Headmaster and Professor Snape waiting for me.

"Miss Dacey!" Dumbledore said jovially. "Do come in."

I walked in and saw a large stone birdbath-shaped bowl, which I recognized to be the Pensieve, in the center of the room, far from its usual spot in a closet. It was filled with a blue substance that wasn't quite liquid, solid, or gas. It could only be described as... _eau des memories_.

"Well, I suppose we ought to get straight to work," Dumbledore said with a smile. "No use wasting time talking, is there, Severus?"

Snape grunted.

"Wonderful! Now, Alisha, you know how to work the Pensieve. This particular memory came from a very special day for you: January 8, 1979." I wondered what happened on my birthday that was so important that I had to experience it first-hand, not just be told. I walked tentatively up to the Pensieve, then took a deep breath and dove in.

I landed next to a Dumbledore looking no younger than he did in the present. He was in a dark room, speaking to a very elderly woman.

"I've been feeling things lately, Professor Dumbledore, things I often feel when I am about to make a prophecy. This feels... somehow more important than usual. I knew that I needed to see you, Professor. I know that you need to witness it..."

"Of course, Mrs. Trelawney." I was shocked; the woman wasn't the Professor Trelawney I knew. This must have been her mother, or perhaps even grandmother. "Anything I can-"

But Trelawney went stiff, and Dumbledore stopped speaking instantly. He knew he had to remember every word. The old witch began spouting poetry before him:

_"As this prophecy dies, a witch will be born_

_Bear she shall the Muggleborns' scorn_

_No father, no siblings, a sister adopted_

_Magic, to her, is not held but wanted_

_Born in New York, but schooled in this land_

_Gryffindor's Sword grazed by her brave hand_

_Bane of a seventh of Tom Riddle's soul_

_With her help, he won't reach his goal_

_If she's not prepared, she'll face a painful death_

_Three friends will save her from a final breath_

_The One not Chosen must be her friend_

_As this love is needed until the very end."_

Then the witch seemed to break off from her poetic style:

_"This prophecy is heard by Dumbledore and Riddle alike."_

The witch slumped forward, and the memory ended. I was pulled back into reality. "Did that prophecy refer to _me_?"

"Indeed, although for a time, we weren't sure," Dumbledore responded. "There were a few young witches who fit the description - Muggleborn witches born in New York at the time of the prophecy, no father, no blood siblings - five, in fact. However, as we knew, Lord Voldemort also heard the prophecy. He tracked down and killed two of the witches, though they were only infants. I personally sent Aurors, friends of mine, to guard the remaining three of you without your mothers' knowing. One died - nothing to do with Dark wizards - and the other has yet to adopt a sister; we have reason to believe that she won't.

"Once I knew it was you, I had to decide what to do with you. I contacted Ilvermorny and told them not to send you a letter. I knew... well, you had to be in Harry Potter's year. To make sure you will be prepared for whatever may happen, I sent Professor Snape to teach you. Now, I'm sure you have many questions, and I'm sure you aren't listening to a word I'm saying, so ask away." He smiled and his eyes twinkled.

It seemed as if his invitation to ask questions broke a dam in my mind. Before I could stop myself, words were flooding out of my mouth. "Wait, so you're not giving me lessons out of the goodness of your heart, Professor? Nevermind, I really don't want to know the answer. What did it mean by the thing about the Sword of Gryffindor? Was that literal, or metaphorical? How will I know when I'm prepared to face whatever tries to kill me? It doesn't specify, it just says 'painful.' Is someone going to use the Cruciatus Curse on me? Wait, why can I only destroy a _seventh_ of Voldemort's soul? What about the other six parts? Is there something I'm missing? Is his soul split into seven parts? Nevermind, that was a stupid question, nobody can do that. Who is the 'One not Chosen'? Why must he or she be my friend? Is he or she already my friend? I hope so, because I suck at forcing friendships. Who was that witch who said the prophecy? Is she okay? She didn't look very good after the prophecy ended. Can I hear the prophecy again?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "That's a good deal of questions. Why don't we begin by showing you the prophecy again?" He stirred the _eau des memories_ with his wand, and the old witch rose out of it, still revolving, and said the prophecy again. I tried my hardest to memorize it.

"As for the Sword of Gryffindor, your guess is as good as mine. We can only hope that you will be trained enough to prevent your own death, as we can only hope that nobody will use the Cruciatus Curse on you. As for the seven parts of Voldemort's soul, that part I do understand. Some day, I'm sure you will understand also. That witch was the grandmother of Professor Trelawney. She- unfortunately- died right as she finished the prophecy." (Unfortunately, seeing her die in the _eau des memories_ didn't count, and I didn't then become able to see the thestrals.) "And finally, the 'One not Chosen.' You have nothing to fear; you are doing everything right." His eyes twinkled again, and I knew that I wouldn't be getting an answer as to _who exactly_ this mysterious person was. "Any more questions?"

"Only too many to put into words."

He smiled. "Then you may go, until you have the ability to ask them."


	11. "The Second Task" -Fred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! So here's the thing. I'm almost at the end of the chapters that I already have written and a HUGE ton of stuff has come up in my already incredibly busy life. So, after the next, I'll say three chapters including this one, I'll not be able to update as often. I just can never find time to write. I'll really really TRY to write as fast as I can, but... yeah. I have zero time. Anyway, on to the chapter.

The whole school seemed to get progressively more and more excited as the date of the first task approached - November 24. Nobody had any idea what the champions would be facing - not even the champions themselves - but in the last few days before the task, Lish said she walked in on Harry and Hermione practicing Summoning Charms in an empty classroom. She wouldn't say why she went in in the first place, but I knew; many times I had looked out the Gryffindor common room window to see a grey bird with a bright red tail wheeling around in the sky. Finding places to transform inconspicuously must have been hard for her.

A good while before this, however, _Daily Prophet_ reporter Rita Skeeter published two articles in two days. The first was meant to be about the four champions but was truly only about Harry, and I laughed when I read it. It depicted Harry as sensitive, mushy, and in love with Hermione, all of which he was not ("I'd be less surprised if he was in love with _me_ ," Lish commented).

The second, however, I didn't laugh at; it made Lish so angry I was surprised that she didn't find Skeeter and murder her immediately.

" _Earlier this week, I was granted the honor of sitting down and talking with two Hogwarts students, Amber Perlis of Ravenclaw and Alisha Dacey of Gryffindor,"_ the article began. _"The two girls are great friends and are both in Harry Potter, Triwizard Champion's, year._

 _"I'm sure you know the story of Alisha Dacey."_ ("Well, everyone knows now," Lish muttered) _"She was born and raised in America - in fact, her mother and adopted sister still live there - but Alisha herself is educatd at Hogwarts instead of Ilvermorny. She began school four years late, but was placed with the third years at the time. Neither she nor Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore have obliged to answer the questions raised by these suspicious circumstances."_

The article then grew into a load of conspiracy theories (of course backed by quotes from Slytherins) and accusing questions. She even somehow found out about Lish's lessons with Snape and attacked from that perspective. Then it jumped to the actual interview, although according to Lish, neither she nor Amber spoke any of the words accredited to them. According to Skeeter, Lish often felt oppressed by her blood status. She avoided Harry at all costs because he was one of her main oppressors. She stuck around Amber to protect her from the status-crazed Hogwarts students (Skeeter promised a follow-up article on blood status at Hogwarts). Furthermore, Lish was "quoted" saying that she was in love with Neville Longbottom ("I saw her quill write Cedric Diggory! It seemed quite excited about it too!"), her mother was abusive ("My mom didn't even come up! Plus, anyone can tell it's fake, I don't say 'mum.'"), and that she wanted to start a movement to bring Slytherins and Gryffindors closer together, as they were the only ones - other than Amber and Neville and the rest of the Muggleborns - who accepted her for her status ("I'm sorry, what?" she laughed). However, it was what Amber supposedly said that made her really angry.

 _"'I suppose that I stick around the Malfoys because they are so accepting of all witches and wizards, no matter their blood status. My family, on the other hand, hates half-bloods and Muggleborns, and hardly a day goes by that nobody refers to Lish as "that-" oh, I can hardly say it "-that_ Mudblood _I talk to." Oh, It's horrible.'"_

"What is this?" Lish said angrily. "Her family is wonderful!"

_"'I've always been very protective of my Lish. She's always so sad about the bullies who are mean to her because of her blood status, and I constantly have to cheer her up. A lot of the Slytherins are nice about it and they help. That's why there's such a big Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry; it's all blood status. It's the Gryffindors who are at fault, not, of course, to hold anything against Lish. I know that the Slytherins used to be the oppressors in the past, but Hogwarts has changed a lot in recent years."_

"Isn't it wonderful how Skeeter says all this 'Slytherins are great' rubbish after getting all those conspiracy quotes from _Slytherins_ ," I commented after having read the entire article out loud for George and Lish, since Lish was now fuming too much to speak. "I bet they're all having a real laugh over there. I mean, seriously-" I turned the page over backwards '-" _The Slytherin dorms are right next to Professor Snape's office," Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin confided-'_ she's in your year, isn't she? ' _-"Sometimes we can hear loud bangs and crashes and laughter really late into the night, and it makes it hard to sleep."'_ I mean, Skeeter is a walking contradiction of herself!"

Lish buried her head in her hands. "Parkinson might actually have been speaking the truth. Professor Snape and I dual a lot - it causes a lot of noise and often knocks things off the walls. Sometimes one of us will use a really ridiculous curse and we'll laugh hysterically. I don't see how the sound could get through such thick walls, though."

"Severus Snape, laughing hysterically?" George mused. "I didn't think that was possible."

I laughed, but Lish looked at George seriously. "Well obviously the Severus Snape I know is much different than the Severus Snape you know."

At that moment, Amber came rushing up behind us. "Lish!" she exclaimed, waving _The Daily Prophet_ angrily. We all turned around. "Did you read this? What happened to 'never giving us fame'? And where did she get this picture of us?" There was a large picture of the two of them around which the first page of the article was written.

"Rita Skeeter is an influential woman of many disguises and many fronts," I said mysteriously. "Undoubtedly a Slytherin, the woman has many connections and knows her way around. She knows where you live, who you love, your biggest fears, your deepest desires, and even what you ate this morning for breakfast..."

I was ignored. "I don't know," Lish said. "You've no idea how angry I am right now. If I could use the Force, everyone in this room would be choking right now." I had no idea what she was referring to, but it sounded sinister. "Everyone. If I were you, I'd write to your family and let them know that the whole article is absolute B.S."

"I was just going to do that, after I talked to you," she said. "I'll go now." She turned on her heel and made her way to the owlry.

In the days that followed, many of the Slytherins began teasing Lish (of course not Amber) about the article. It seemed to be the best week of their lives, since not only did they have Lish to torment, but Harry as well. George and I tried to stay around her to ward off the teasers, but she told us to let them. Her mischievous smile told us not to ask any questions.

The Monday of the following week, hardly any of the Slytherins in and around Lish's year made it to breakfast. George and I arrived at the Great Hall to find Lish exchanging glances between their table and a long piece of parchment in her hand.

"What's that?" George asked tentatively, sitting down next to her.

"Oh, just a list of everyone who was a jerk about the Skeeter article." She suddenly began looking up and down the Gryffindor table muttering, "Seamus Finnigan." I didn't see him there. "Good!" Lish said.

George and I exchanged significant looks. I sat slowly. After making sure nobody on her list was present in the room, Lish spoke once again. "Professor Snape and I have been working on the Draught of Living Death recently," she said, and left it at that. George and I once again shared a look, but said nothing.

Fortunately, the Slytherins (and others) were out of the hospital wing by Thursday. I wasn't sure whether Lish had brewed the potion wrong (though I would never dare say that; I was beginning to think that she might have been a sociopath) or whether she had purposefully brewed it weaker than it should have been. In my experience, though, the Draught of Living Death should have put them in a much longer slumber than three days.

At long last, November 24 rolled around. Lessons stopped halfway through (getting George and me out of a close call with Snape). We met up with Lish as everyone made their way down to an arena set up in the Forbidden Forest. In the center there were five huge eggs, one of them bright gold. Towards one end was a tent - this was where the four champions headed - and at the other end were four huge cages, the contents of which were evidently trying to get out.

Lish, George, and I sat down. "I wonder what they'll have to do..." Lish mused.

"Whattaya think's in the cages?" I asked.

"Maybe some of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts."

"You know, I really wouldn't be surprised," Lish said.

"Maybe it's an eating contest," I guessed. "Who can eat the most eggs? Champion or Skrewt? And whoever eats the golden egg gets ten extra points."

"It would be easier for the Skrewt; I doubt they would have to cook it."

"I bet the Skrewt would do a good job of cooking it for the champion..."

We continued on like this until Hermione, Ron, and Neville (who had been acting nervous around Lish ever since the Skeeter article) joined us. Then they joined in on the argument too. Except Hermione, who kept looking hard at the eggs like she was trying to burn holes in them with her eyes. Finally, she said, "Those are dragon eggs. Class 1 non-tradable goods. Nobody's going to be eating them." Unfortunately for Hermione, that just got us arguing about dragons.

"Good afternoon!" Ludo Bagman's magnified voice said, silencing us. "Today we have the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!" We all cheered. "The first obstacle the champions will have to face - dragons!"

Everyone screamed with excitement, and Hermione gave us a knowing look. One of the cages was opened, and five wizards - one of them Charlie, I realized - guided a large blue-grey dragon out of one of the cages. It must have been a she because once she saw the eggs, she forgot about the half-dozen wizards surrounding her and raced over to them.

"Each champion will have to get past the dragon and get the golden egg! This first one is a Swedish Short-Snout paired with Cedric Diggory! Is this sure to be a scene!"

As Charlie and the other wizards left the arena, a white-faced Cedric Diggory entered. He already had his wand drawn and I could see from where I was sitting that he was terrified. The Short-Snout looked warily up at him from where she was guarding her eggs.

Cedric suddenly dropped to his knees, and I felt Lish jump next to me. We both thought the same thing, that he had almost passed out from fear. He hadn't; he began sifting through the tall grass and dirt, his motions jerky with fear, until he found a fairly large rock. He moved it to the dirt in front of him and pointed his wand at it. Suddenly, the rock transfigured into a large black Lab. We all ooed and aahed. Diggory stood, more confident now, and waved his wand at the dog. It ran towards the dragon, barking like mad, and the dragon shifted its weight.

"It's gonna eat him!" Lish whimpered. I turned and laughed when I saw that she was watching the task from between her fingers.

The dog, much braver than Lish, was running around the dragon, still barking. Finally, the dragon had enough. She rose onto all four legs and took a few steps towards the Lab. The dog jumped out of the way, then continued nipping at her heels, before running away again. Enraged, the dragon began chasing after it in earnest.

Cedric took that as his cue and raced towards her nest. He was two meters away when the dragon realized what he was doing, turned around, and charged him instead. Everyone screamed. Instead of turning and running for his life, Cedric dived for the egg. He grabbed it, accidentally scattering the others. The dragon roared. Cedric stood, and this time he _did_ run for his life. The dragon raced after him. He shot a _Stupefy!_ at it, but it shot fire at him. He would have been dead if he hadn't jumped out of the way right on time; instead, only his hair set on fire. There was probably about ten seconds of sustained screaming from the crowd until he put it out, still running. It was the best feat of multitasking I had ever seen in my life.

Finally, after a few minutes, Cedric escaped the enclosure. We all cheered as Charlie and the others subdued the dragon.

"Very good!" Bagman said. "Now, for the judges!"

The five judges - including Bagman - were sitting opposite the stands. Mme. Maxime was first. She thought for a moment, then shot a 7 into the air. Crouch also put up a 7. Dumbledore gave a 9. Bagman gave an 8, and Karkaroff, scowling, gave a 6. We all cheered for each of the scores (excepting Karkaroff's). He got 38 points out of 50.

Cedric was escorted to the first aid tent and a wizard placed another golden egg in the nest. The dragon tamers brought out a green dragon. "Next we have a Common Welsh Green paired with the beautiful Fleur Delacour!"

Fleur came out looking as beautiful as ever, yet terrified. Her face had an always-determined-no-matter-how-scared look on it that I would come to know well on Lish's. She hesitated for only a second before raising her wand and beginning to say an incantation. The dragon made eye contact with her to see what on earth she though she was doing, and that turned out to be its bane. Immediately, its head began to droop, and in a few minutes, it had keeled over next to the eggs, fast asleep. We cheered. Fleur neared the dragon, moving around its great head to-

The dragon snored, snorting fire out of its nose. Fleur's dress caught on fire. We all sucked in out breath. She handled the situation with a quick _Aguamenti_ , grabbed the egg, and ran for her life. Everyone cheered.

"Excellent! Now, for the scores!"

Mme. Maxime gave an 8, Crouch a 7, Dumbledore a 7 as well, Bagman an 8, and Karkaroff a 5. 35 out of 50.

"My God," Lish commented. "They really don't want anyone to get good scores, do they?"

"Perhaps they're saving that for the Boy-Who-Lived," I responded.

This time, a red dragon with a mane of gold spikes was brought out, along with another golden egg. "Next is a Chinese Fireball and the international superstar Viktor Krum!"

Everyone screamed upon hearing Krum's name. He walked, pigeon-toed and hunched (he really _wasn't_ pretty on the ground, was he?), into the arena. He immediately began circling the dragon, trying to get its attention. The second it raised its head, Krum shot a curse at it and hit it right in the eye. The sound that came out of the dragon was less like a roar and more like a scream of agony.

I must admit, Krum's plan was pretty smart. The only problem with the Conjunctivitus Curse was that it caused the Fireball to stumble around, both not letting Krum near the eggs and also actively putting him in danger of being crushed. After a few minutes of this, he was obviously beginning to get scared of points getting docked because he spent so long doing nothing, so he threw caution to the wind and ran underneath the dragon. She must have sensed his presence, because she began stomping her feet and screaming louder. Everyone covered their ears and watched in horror as the dragon brought her hind foot down on the cluster of eggs. We all gasped. Points would certainly be deducted for that.

Once the dragon lifted her foot, Krum dived under her and grabbed the unharmed golden egg. He quickly got out of harm's way and we all cheered. Charlie and the gang subdued the dragon, and we awaited the judge's scores.

Madame Maxime was first again and gave a 7. Crouch gave an 8. Dumbledore gave an 8. Bagman gave a 7, and Karkaroff gave a 10.

"Biased!" George, Lish, and I all shouted at the same time, although at least George and I were happy with the score. 40 out of 50.

"And last but _certainly_ not least, Harry Potter and the Hungarian Horntail!" This time, all the eggs had to be replaced, and a vicious-looking dragon with a spiked tail was brought out to stand guard over them. Harry himself came out of the tent, looking terrified. He raised his wand. _"Accio Firebolt!"_

"Brilliant!" I shouted.

A few seconds passed with nothing happening, and the crowd began to get anxious. "If it works," George added.

Suddenly, the Firebolt came zooming over the stands, stopping at Harry's side. Everyone screamed in excitement, except for Lish, who groaned, "I thought I wouldn't have to deal with Quidditch at _all_ this year!" George and I both punched her.

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off, and I saw how the fear instantly melted from his face. He soared so high he was only a pinprick in the sky, then dived down in front of the Horntail, pulling out of it just in time to avoid a jet of flame. Everyone in the crowd was on their feet by then except for Lish (although I could feel that she was secretly excited). Harry flew up in a circle around her before having to dive beneath fire again. This time, though, the dragon's tail caught him and cut his arm. The crowd screamed and gasped.

Harry completely ignored the wound but continued trying to divert the dragon. He flew back and forth just out of her reach until she rose up on her hind legs and finally launched into the air. Harry dived once again under the dragon and grabbed the egg as if it were a Golden Snitch. We cheered.

The dragon was subdued, and Harry was ushered into the first-aid tent before he could hear his score, followed by Ron and Hermione. A few minutes later, his arm was as good as new, and the judges were ready to give their scores.

Mme. Maxime gave an 8. Crouch gave a 9. Dumbledore also gave a 9. Bagman gave a 10. Then Karkaroff gave a... four.

"Biased!" the three of us screamed again, along with the boo's of much of the crowd. Now Harry was tied with Krum, with a 40/50.

 

Later that day, all of Gryffindor held a party in Harry's honor. Lee had bought some Filibuster's Fireworks which were now racing around the common room, and Dean Thomas drew posters of Harry flying around the Horntail and Cedric's head on fire. Lish, George, and I went down to the kitchens for food, since everyone else was decorating.

When Harry finally arrived, the room erupted in cheers. Harry set the golden egg down on the table, which we took no time starting to investigate; it did hold a clue to the second task, after all.

Lee was first to get his hands on it. "Blimey, this is heavy. Open it, Harry, go on! Let's see what's inside it!"

He gave Harry the egg, and he opened it. It gave a horrible screeching noise which pierced our ears.

"Shut it!" I yelled. He closed it.

"What was that?" someone said. "Sounded like a banshee... Maybe you've got to get past one of those next!"

Neville, on the other hand, was pale. "It sounded like someone being tortured! You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville," George said, "that's illegal. They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing... maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry."

"That's ridiculous," Lish said with a grin. "Way too easy. It sounded more like someone getting chopped into a hundred pieces slowly and painfully. You'll obviously have to face a Muggle axe murderer, your wand taken away from you."

"Ah... if only Draco Malfoy was the Hogwarts champion," Ron mused. We all laughed.

A few hours later - long past midnight - we all grudgingly went to bed.


	12. "The Unexpected Task"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three points. One: Sorry sorry SORRY I haven't posted in like two weeks. These few weeks before the school year are just always so stressful for us; the kids are excited (for the most part) and I'm rushing to get myself prepared... It's just so busy. Honestly, I don't even have time to be doing this, but I'm the type of person who a) needs to let people know what's happening and why I'm not posting and b) wants to leave people thinking about what to expect next, so I'm taking time that I can't spare to publish this (at least it's a relatively short chapter, or feels like it, since I wrote it in two days and it was one of the most exciting moments in my entire life). 
> 
> And that probably grammatically incorrect sentence leads to my next point. Two: I've been... hmm... let's use the word enlisted... I've been enlisted to go teach at Prettysticks until November (something to do with the DADA teacher's wife - who has never seen anyone die - nearly dying herself while trying to ride a thestral). I don't know why they couldn't get a normal substitute/new teacher (you see how well that went every year with Dumbledore), and I don't know why I of all people was chosen for the job (you would think they would want someone who can say more than "Bonjour," "Au revoir," and "Je ne parle pas francais"), but hey. So I'll be in France until November, and will probably have no time to publish at all. I'll take that time to try to write as far ahead as I can, but you may not be seeing any of me until then. So, enjoy this chapter, though it's short (I think), and I'll see you then!
> 
> And three: This chapter is especially fun, because I have a POV change right in the middle, which is also why the chapter isn't named as usual. It'll be properly labeled.

_**Fred's POV:** _

A few days later, after we had finished our work in Transfiguration, we received startling news: "It's a great tradition of the Triwizard Tournament that on Christmas night, the hosting school holds a Yule Ball," Professor McGonagall began. Angelina and all the other girls in the class began to giggle. "The ball will only be open to fourth years and above, but you may invite someone younger, if you like. Although this will hopefully be an enjoyable experience during which you can bond with foreign students, I expect you all to be on your best behavior-" here, she looked directly at George and me "-and if any one of you chooses to disgrace the honor of Gryffindor House, you will experience the greatest of punishments."

The girls certainly weren't giggling now. McGonnagall surveyed the class, then smiled. "Class is dismissed. Go find yourselves partners for the ball."

We all moved as one towards the doors. A ball! I had never been to one of those! I was incredibly excited. All I could have to do was get up my courage and ask-

No, I couldn't ask Lish. I had forgotten for a second. George, by rights, could ask her before I could. I glanced at George from the corner of my eye. Maybe if I just asked him... but no. Believe it or not, but I was a man of my word. A stupid man of my word, but one nonetheless. Well, at least with the people I truly cared about.

Over the next few days, talk of the ball spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts. Girls began queuing up around boys, hoping to be asked. The champions couldn't walk down a hall without being attacked by twenty different people. I got a feeling that Lish may have _wanted_ to be asked by me, because every time I would have found myself alone, either she or Angelina always managed to be hanging around. When it was only one of them, they would come up to me and talk, but when both of them tried to approach me at the same time, they would notice each other and hang back, giving each other unfriendly looks. Apparently, they thought I couldn't see them. Maybe I was really just imagining it.

About a week and a half after we learned about the ball, it was Lish who was the lucky one of the pair. She had cornered me in the common room as I was doing an essay for History of Magic before dinner. Unless I was really imagining the girls' competition, this meant that George hadn't asked her yet. I had to know. "Hey Lish?" I interrupted her. She had been talking animatedly about the ball.

"Yes?"

"Has anyone asked you to the ball yet?"

Her eyes widened a fraction, and she grinned. "No... why?"

"Oh- no- I was just- just wondering-"

Just then, George and Angelina came down the stairs, talking and laughing loudly. I decided I needed to act. I left Lish confused where she was and ran up to George. "Sorry Ange, but can I talk to George alone please?" I dragged him up to our dorm.

"What, going to ask me to the ball?"

"Funny. No, can I ask you something?"

"You already did." He smiled.

My stomach was doing too many backflips for me to tell him to get a new joke. "Can I ask Lish to the ball?" I didn't give him time to answer but plowed on. "I know - by rights - that you should get to ask her, but since you haven't yet-"

"-Fred-"

"-and since Angelina wouldn't mind going with you, I thought - but only if it's okay with you-"

"-Fred-"

"-it's completely your call-"

"-Fred!" I looked at him. He laughed. "Of course you can ask her." My face must have lit up like Dad's whenever he got his hands on a battery. "Why don't we just-"

I hugged him, cutting him off, and said, "Thanks a million, George!" then ran out of the room.

"Fred!" he shouted after me, but I didn't stop. Whatever he had to say probably wouldn't benefit me. I ran down to the common room, but nobody was there except for Neville.

"Where'd Lish go?" I asked him.

"The Great Hall. Everyone's gone down for dinner. I've stayed to gather my courage."

"There's a good Gryffindor. Thanks, Neville!" I ran out the common room, not particularly wanting to know what he was gathering his courage _for_. Halfway to the Great Hall, I slowed down to a walk. It would probably be best not to ask while she was eating, since there would be so many people around. I would separate her from the group afterwards. I was even later to dinner since I had to take a detour to avoid passing Malfoy and Perlis, who were snogging in a corridor (my God, how could Lish be _friends_ with that girl?), so by the time I arrived, there weren't any seats next to Lish anyway. And when Perlis walked in and separated with Malfoy to go to their respective tables, she dragged Lish away from the Gryffindor table and to Ravenclaw where they began talking excitedly.

Turns out the prospect of asking Lish to the ball was even more frightening of asking George if I _could_ ask her. I hardly ate anything, though I was starving, and spoke to no one. I'm sure people noticed. It was the longest dinner of my life, but after seemingly years I saw Perlis and Lish get up and begin walking out of the Hall. It was now or never. I got up and followed them a few paces behind. Once there was nobody around, I caught up to them.

"Hey Lish!" They both turned. "Can I talk to you for a sec? Alone?"

"Sure, Fred," she replied, elbowing Perlis, who was giggling. "I'll meet you on the next floor, Amber. _GO."_

Perlis grudgingly left us and began going up the stairs. Lish followed me farther down the corridor. People were starting to leave the Great Hall in earnest, so there was a bit of a crowd.

"Lish-" I began, but she suddenly turned around. "I can _sense_ you presence, Amber," she said loudly, and the Ravenclaw, who had been hiding within the crowd, scurried away. She turned again to face me.

"Well, I was wondering..." My heart was pounding in my throat. "Would you like to come to the ball with me?"

Lish's face went white, then pink, and she grinned. "Sure! Yes, that sounds great! Thank you!" She stood there for a second, obviously not knowing what to do. Then she gave me a quick hug before running away.

I leaned against the wall, my heart still pounding. She said yes!

 

_ **Lish's POV:** _

I ran from Fred as fast as I could, blushing furiously, my heart pounding. He asked me to the ball! Then I was stupid enough to hug him, of all things! But that wasn't enough to worry me now. I took the stairs two at a time and almost ran into Amber on the landing.

"Well?"

" _He asked me to the ball!!"_

She screamed and I screamed back and we hugged and jumped up and down at the same time in excitement.

"I told you, Lish! This is going to be a special year for both of us! I take full credit." She smirked. We continued, each gushing about our own love interest. Amber informed me that she, of course, was going to the ball with Malfoy and gave me a detailed account of their "snogging" (God, I _hate_ that word!) session from earlier that day. I didn't even have to pretend to gag.

On the fourth floor, I spotted Neville, very white-faced, who was apparently just going down to dinner. "Her, Neville!" I called happily. He didn't answer, but appeared to go even whiter. He rushed hurriedly past.

"Strange," Amber muttered. We continued talking.

"Lish!" We turned. Neville was standing nervously about ten paces away. "Do you want to be my partner for the ball?"

I was baffled! Two people asking me in one day; who would have imagined! "Sorry Neville," I said, "but I just said yes to Fred five minutes ago."

"Oh- cool- sorry. Bye then." He walked quickly away.

Once he was out of earshot, Amber snickered. I rounded on her, "Shut up! It's not funny!"

She was full-out laughing now. "No, Lish, It's just- he _fancies_ you. And the look on your face!"

I was blushing now. "He doesn't necessarily _like_ me; that's not the only pretense on which one can ask someone to a ball, or on which one can accept their offer."

"Yes, because you don't fancy the person who _you_ accepted."

The girl had a point. "I'll have you know that I would have said yes to Neville had he asked me before Fred."

"No you wouldn't have!"

"Alright, fine. If I somehow knew that Fred wasn't planning on asking me, I would have gone with Neville. I might have even asked him myself."

We continued talking all the way to Ravenclaw Tower, where we separated. Then I ran to Gryffindor Tower and up to my dorm, where Hermione already was.

"HE ASKED ME TO THE BALL!!!" I screamed, grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill.

"Awesome!" she exclaimed, then smiled. "Writing to your mum?"

I had written to my mom previously about the ball, and she had responded blatantly obviously that she (and Kelsie and Sirius, for that matter) knew I wanted to go with Fred.

"Yes." I sat down to start writing but found I couldn't sit still, so I stood and leaned over the desk, writing:

_FredaskedmetotheballFredaskedmetotheballFREDASKEDMETOTHEBALL!!_

"And he didn't say 'as a friend'!!" I shouted at Hermione, then added it to the letter.

 _If I was in a private room, I would be jumping for joy,"_ I wrote, then quite literally jumped for joy. _"Since only Hermione is in the room, I AM jumping for joy! I do a little dance after each sentence that I write! I just tackled Hermione in a hug and planted an excited kiss on her cheek. God, I'M SO HAPPY!_

"Oh my God, Hermione," I exclaimed. "I don't have dress robes yet! I'll have to sneak out tonight."

 _The ball is in a week. What will I wear? I plan to go to Hogsmeade and get some proper dress robes. I never expected this to happen! I can't believe this actually_ is _happening! I thought I was going to die alone! Holy poop, Mom, this is incredible!_

"Hermione, pinch me." She obliged, and I surprisingly didn't wake up.

_I just had Hermione pinch me to make sure it's not a dream! And it's not!_

_Love,_

_Lish_

"Done," I said.

Hermione asked, "Can I see that?" I handed the letter to her. She perused it, then grabbed a quill and wrote a postscript before handing it back to me.

_P.S. - Hello, Mrs. Dacey & Co., this is Hermione. I just wanted to let you know that your daughter is crazy._


	13. "The Pity Party" -Lish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hi. I'm back. Now please, don't start yelling: "omg Lish I was so worried I thought you died or something why haven't you posted you said November and now its January you're such a horrible person." I'm sorry, it's been really busy and I haven't had time. Sue me. 
> 
> Anyway, Prettysticks was great. I could hardly understand what was going on (and I reiterate, why it was ME of all people they chose, I don't know), but there was pretty much a kid in every class who spoke at least a bit of English, so when I was particularly struggling, I could get help. It worked in the end. 
> 
> Again, sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy this chapter, although it is a turning point in my story and, as could probably be guessed by the title, not really a good one. 
> 
> OH YEAH I FORGOT. Although I didn't have time to publish a chapter, I did find time to rename all of the so-far-published chapters, because, well, I just like the idea of named chapters. They're fun.
> 
> On that note, thanks for reading!

"I still don't get why you can't tell me who you're going with," I said to Hermione, stroking the little black glass dog that I had received from Sirius for Christmas. It was the night of the Yule Ball, and Hermione and I were helping each other get ready. Unlike with Ginny, Hermione had refused to tell me who her mysterious partner was, claiming that I would "enjoy the surprise."

"You'll see. You'll all see."

"Can you at least give me a hint or something?'

"He's quite the gentleman," Hermione said, finishing straightening my hair. We had both already put in plenty of hair potion, but were touching each other up with a bit of wandwork. "Hm. It could use some volume." She tapped my hair with her wand. "Much better. He's sweet and quite popular, if I do say so myself."

She twirled my hair with her wand, adding bounce. "I'm leaving your hair down," she decided.

"My turn," I said, putting the dog down and turning her to face me. A single tap of my wand did exactly what I wanted with her hair. I showed her to the mirror. "Perfect."

We stood side by side, staring at our own and each others reflections. Considering that both of us had generally very frizzy hair, this new silkiness was something we could both appreciate.

"Oh, and one final touch," Hermione said. She tapped my hair and turned it a few shades lighter blonde. She smiled. "Perfect."

Forty minutes later, we walked down to the common room after having done our own and each other's makeup and put on our dresses (yes, I had snuck out and bought mine the night Fred asked me to the ball). It turned out that Hermione was as good at makeup as I was at hair, while it took me a full twenty minutes to get hers right. Getting the dresses on without messing up anything that we had previously done took another twenty minutes.

Down in the common room, Fred was waiting for me with a rose in his hand. He handed me the rose and offered me his arm, which I took. I felt a pleasant heat rise to my neck. This was really happening!

Hermione excused herself and left to meet her date. Date. Fred was my _date_! He looked magnificent in his dress robes. Sure, they had probably once belonged to Bill, or Charlie, but Fred... well, he looked great in anything.

"You look... stunning," he said quietly. We stared at each other for a few moments. "Well, shall we go, my sweet Honeykins?"

"We shall," I replied with a grin.

He escorted me to the Great Hall, where the four champions were still waiting. There, with Viktor Krum, was Hermione. She flashed me a grin, and Krum just stared.

Fred and I were the last ones to enter before the champions, and boy, did we get looks! Witches and wizards alike stared at us. The Slytherins - including Malfoy who was of course with Amber - glared at me as I walked by. They were probably just jealous of my luscious golden locks. Amber, however, gave me a thumbs-up and a wink.

Just after we arrived, Hermione, Krum, Harry, and the rest of the champions and their partners came in. I heard audible gasps when people saw Hermione, and I could see the plain, undisguised jealousy on the faces of Krum's suitors.

Fred and I were just in time for the end of an old song and the beginning of a new one. "May I have this dance, m'lady?"

I took the hand that he offered. "The only problem is that I don't know any wizard dances."

"Well then you've picked the right guy as your date. I know them all." He bowed deeply and kissed my hand. I flushed.

We spent the entire first song with him just trying to teach me various different wizard dances. I was a horrid dancer, so the only one I could actually pick us was a dance similar to the Box Step. He eventually gave up on anything more difficult, and we just danced like that, for it was a relatively slow song. In the ideal world, I would have been right up against him, but this wasn't the ideal world: Voldemort was somewhere out there, Sirius was still thought to be a murderer, and I had to live with only having Fred's hands on my waist. Oh, the troubles of being a fourth year Mudblood with a prophecy.

After that song, the Weird Sisters, who were performing the music, decided to get excited. The beat became quicker, and Fred and I started to have a little fun. Instead of doing any formal dance, we improvised. Fred twirled me around a lot, and I was dizzy and giggling by the end of it.

After a few more dances, Fred decided to sit down and get food. I was so excited I couldn't have bared to sit still, so instead I dragged Harry away from the table he was sulking at and off to the dance floor. He protested too loudly for me to put up with, so I let him sit down and tried to dance with Ron instead. He, too, protested too much for my liking, so I let him go, then wandered a bit until Neville asked me to dance. I had never been a good dancer, but Neville was an easy person to dance with since I had to focus more on not getting stepped on than on actually dancing. After Neville was pulled away by Luna Lovegood (I would have to ask her how she got into the dance), I danced with a bunch of random boys, including George, Lee, Ernie, Dean, and others that I didn't even know. I might have even danced with a Slytherin. In sixth year.

Fred came back to me just in time for the slow dance. "May I have this dance?" he asked for the second time that night.

"Oh, Freddie, you know you don't have to ask."

This time, he wrapped his arms around my waist and I wrapped mine behind his neck. Something possessed me, and I laid my head down in the little cranny between my arm and his neck. The position was so intimate that my heart couldn't even think to pound. His heart, however, was; I could feel it in his neck. Was what I was doing offending him? Should I move away? No, I decided. This would probably never happen again in my life.

The dance was over too soon and the spell broken. We pulled away and, getting sudden inspiration, I grinned. "I'm gonna teach you a Muggle dance," I told him. "Two, actually. They're not anything formal, but they're really fun.

"The first one you count in eights."

I demonstrated: two heel taps in front; two toe taps in back; tap in front, tap your heel with your hand in front; tap in back, tap your heel with your hand in back; four steps to the right and clap; twirl back to the left for four counts, swinging your arm over your head like a lasso.

He looked at me like I was insane. "It'll make more sense with the right music."

"The right-?"

" _Silencio!_ "I cried, pointing my wand at the Weird Sisters. The Great Hall fell silent, and Fred looked at me as if I had murdered someone. "Bloody hell," he whispered.

I pointed my wand at the instruments and - you guessed it - a pretty decent instrumental version of the Cotton-Eyed Joe began to play. I started dancing, as did a few Muggleborns, and Fred caught on quickly. The Purebloods and Muggleborns who were unacquainted with the dance stared at us for a few seconds as if we were mental, until they jumped in and started learning the dance as well. Eventually, even Dumbledore, McGonagall, and some other teachers joined in, though Snape was sulking in a corner, much like Harry and Ron, as he had been the whole time. By the end, we were tired and laughing, but I wasn't done yet.

With another flick of my wand, the Macarena blared on. It took people a little bit longer to catch onto this one, but the scattered people who knew the dance helped out those who didn't, and soon even the Weird Sisters were dancing. When the song was over, I removed my spell from the singers and they started performing again.

Still laughing and breathing hard, I said to Fred, "I'm getting something to eat," and walked off.

When I sat down at an empty table in the corner with a plate full of food, Fred sat down next to me. "You can go dance with other people," I told him. "I'll eat quickly and then find you."

He waved me off. "You're ridiculous. I'm staying with you."

I blushed against my will. "Now I feel bad for having left you."

He laughed, and said, "It's fine. Honest."

I took a self-conscious bite of food and savored its perfection. "Mmm," I sighed. "The house-elves have gone all-out today, even without my help."

"I knew it!" Fred exclaimed. "There are rumors that you help the house-elves with meals."

"It's no big secret," I replied. "I just enjoy cooking. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Of course not, Honeykins."

We fell into easy conversation, as if the gods had already planned out this moment and had just been waiting for us to have an extended period of time alone to let it unfold. Only twenty whole minutes after I had finished eating did the conversation begin to dwindle, and of course it was then, in my desperation to keep it going, that I said something so stupid that it basically ruined the entirety of the rest of my Hogwarts career:

"Remember what Ron said a while ago, about one of his brothers having a crush on me? Do you know what he was talking about?"

Fred seemed shocked that I asked the question, his face going red almost instantly. "Well- um- I-" He swallowed hard. "Lish, can I tell you something?" He faced me and took my hands.

"Anything," I replied. I was certain, at that moment, of what he was going to say, and I could not believe my luck. And I admit it, I leaned closer to him, hoping that maybe - just maybe...

"Lish, I-"

Harry and Ron plopped themselves down in the seats opposite Fred and me. We pulled apart quickly and Fred stood up, the spell instantly broken. My God, those insolent boys! Do you know what it's like to have everything you want right in front of you, just to have it ripped away by some force beyond your control? I did. I still do. It's happened with me so many times in my life that I've learned to expect it.

Harry and Ron groaned loudly, evidently not noticing what had been happening. "This dance is so boring," Ron complained.

"Well, perhaps if you and Harry would actually try to dance, you would have fun!" I said angrily.

"You guys are so insensitive, so bloody stupid!" Fred exclaimed at the same time. He stormed off.

Harry and Ron seemed surprised at our outbursts and blinked. "What did we do?" Harry asked.

"Morons," I muttered under my breath, then followed Fred.

"What did we do?!" Harry called after me. I didn't look back.

I'd like to say that I instantly found Fred and the two of us proceeded to make out in some dark corner away from the prying eyes of the teachers. That was not the case. In fact, I was surprised at how quickly and completely someone with such bright red hair could disappear into a crowd. I spent the next twenty minutes searching for him in vain before I gave up. Throughout the whole time, I couldn't help but notice all the other kissing couples: Amber and Malfoy, Hermione and Krum, Neville and Luna. My God, how did _Neville Longbottom_ manage to get off better than I? I wanted to _Crucio_ them all. It just wasn't fair.

Once I realized I wasn't going to find him, I sat down at a table and put my head in my hands. A few minutes later, I felt someone sit next to me. Was it-? Could it possibly be-?

"Lish?" Oh. It was Ginny. I groaned. "What happened?" I groaned again. "Do I have to beat up my brother for you?"

I looked up at her. "No. It's not Fred's fault. Well, not completely." I told her a quick summary of what happened.

"That sounds horrible," she said sympathetically.

"It really was, Ginny," I replied. "I swear, if it weren't for those _stupid_ boys, we would have kissed. I _feel_ it. Why do boys ruin everything?" I put my head back down on the table. Ginny pat my back. "And now he doesn't even want to see me." I didn't know why, but I started crying. "And now everything is ruined, and I'm gonna die alone, an old prune with twenty cats and ten owls!"

"Well, at least your date isn't off snogging Loony Lovegood," she said dejectedly.

I lifted my head from my arms. "You don't have a crush on Neville, do you?"

"Of course not! You know that I'm absolutely infatuated with Harry. But it seems like a betrayal for him to be doing that."

Hermione sat down on the other side of the table, her face covered with her hands. She obviously didn't notice us.

"Hermione?" I said. She jumped, but took her hands away from her red, blotchy face.

"Oh, hello guys. Did you see Luna Lovegood and Neville? Strange, isn't it?"

"Yes, we know," Ginny said dryly. "But that obviously isn't what got you crying. What happened to you?"

"It's just that stupid Ron!" she said angrily. "This whole night, Viktor has been wonderful to me, but I just can't get my mind off Ron! How he asked me as a last resort, as is he doesn't even care about me!"

"I see what's happening," I said. "The three of us are just having crush problems. Except for you, Ginny."

"Welcome to the party, Hermione."

"The pity party."

"What happened to you two?"

Ginny and I relayed our troubles to Hermione. When we were done, we just sat there in silence for a while.

"At least Luna's happy," I eventually said miserably.

"At least Luna's happy," they repeated.

After Hermione was taken away from us by a concerned-looking Viktor Krum a few minutes later, Ginny and I decided to screw the ball and leave for Gryffindor Tower. It was deserted, of course, so we stayed in the common room and screamed out our anger, cursing Neville and Fred and even Ron (in Hermione's honor). Eventually we calmed down, and since I had promised my mom and Kelsie that I would write and tell them about the ball, Ginny helped me to make the letter sound cheerful. When we had finished, we decided it was time to go to bed.

"You know you'll love him again in the morning, right?" Ginny said in place of "good night."

"I know," I said.

We shut our respective doors.


	14. "Dreams and Proposals" -Lish

_It's Valentine's Day, what year I don't know. Something possesses me and I corner my crush under that big tree by the Great Lake. I tell him I'm in love with him._

Harry and Ron sat down on either side of me. I quickly moved my arm to cover what I was writing and gave them death stares.

_I think I stutter a lot,_ I continued, attempting to hide the words as I was writing them, which probably didn't work. _He seems to get the picture, though._

"What are you writing?" Harry asked.

"My dream journal for Trelawney. Mind your own business."

_He says he doesn't like me in that way, and we share an awkward hug._

"Do you have any ideas of what we can put in ours?" Ron asked. They both took out their dream journals, and I got the impression that they had been waiting to ambush me with the question. Why not Hermione who was sitting right across the common room, I didn't know.

I ignored them.

_Then, for some reason, my crush goes off to fight. I don't see a battle, but I know that there is one not far off._

"Well?"

I shut my dream journal and rounded on them. "Why don't you just put your actual dreams?"

"Why would we want to do that?"

Lord, I always hated how Harry and Ron would complain about homework. I was the exact opposite, and I suppose I expected at least Harry to be the same as me. I mean, what was wizarding homework other than a constant reminder that we didn't have to go to Muggle school and do Muggle homework? So at times like these, I had very low tolerance for the pair.

"Maybe because you might learn something about yourselves?" I answered. "For example, last week I dreamed I was begging Darth Vader to teach me the ways of the Force. Obviously not many people here get the reference, so I had to decode the dream myself, and I figured it symbolized that I am looking for something more in life, and that I have a tendency to want to stray to the Dark since, obviously, Darth Vader is a Sith."

"You asked _who_ to teach you _what?"_ Ron asked. "And- _what??"_

"And that same week, I dreamed that Kelsie and Colin Creevey had a kid together - ew - and I went berserk and locked Colin in the basement for the rest of eternity and Trelawney said that meant that I am very protective of Kelsie and will do everything in my power to keep her safe.

"And the week before that, I had a dream that I was Gandalf and I wanted to get some dwarves together to go on an adventure with me but all there was were hobbits and Bilbo was nowhere to be found so of course none of the hobbits wanted to go on an adventure and then Gollum came talking to himself and dragging the body of poor Bilbo behind him and the dwarves (including Thorin and Fili and Kili) were behind them in chains tossing the Ring back and forth between them and that translated to-"

"OKAY WE GET IT!" Ron shouted. The ingrates. They were the ones who asked me.

"My preciousss..." I hissed, trying my best to sound menacing. "Thisss one doesn't appresssiate us...

"Should we kill it, my preciousss?

"No, it is not worth killing... Not worth our time..."

"Harry..? Is Lish... possessed?" He sounded genuinely scared.

"I don't know."

Hermione, who had been listening in, and who understood the reference, just laughed.

"They thinks my preciouss is crazy, does they? They thinkded wrong, they did... Yesss... we is very sane... Much more saner than them..."

Ron plucked up his courage and grabbed my journal from where it was lying on the table. I instantly broke out of my pre-movie Gollum interpretation and tried to snatch it back from him, but he held it away from me.

"What about the one you were just writing now?" He flipped to my latest entry and began reading it aloud. "' _It's Valentine's Day, what year I don't know..._ '" As he read the whole thing, laughing, I tried in vain to take it back from him. I know, I could have easily just cursed him - and he would have deserved it - but I was trying hard to curse people less. Finally he was done, and he allowed me to grab it.

"Who's this crush of yours?" he asked with a grin, loud enough for the whole common room to hear. "Is he, by any chance, _Fred?_ "

I pulled out my wand and pressed it to his chest. The whole common room went silent, and I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Hermione stand with her wand in her hand. I was so furious at him that I didn't care who she was planning on using it on, so furious that I had to bite my tongue until I tasted blood, because I knew if I didn't, the word _Crucio_ would have slipped past my lips.

"Well?"

I forced myself to lower my wand and instead slapped him as hard as I could (which was pretty hard in my anger) with my dream journal. "That is my business and mine alone," I managed shakily. I ran from the room before I lost it and cursed him.

"He fancies you back!" Ron shouted. "He always has, always will!"

I slammed the door to my dorm, but was still able to hear the fight that raged between him and Hermione below.

 

The truth was, Ron's words affected me a lot. If they were true (which I doubted), then why was it that ever since the Yule Ball - that is, the Pity Party - I hadn't spoken to or really even seen Fred once? Hermione was back on speaking (or at least yelling) terms with Ron, and I had seen Ginny talking with Neville, but Fred and me? It was as if our very friendship had evaporated that night over a week ago.

 

The next time I spoke with him was during breakfast on the morning of the first day back to classes. I had been sitting alone, refusing to go anywhere near Ron and not seeing Amber, when he and George sat next to me.

The three of us talked as if the past week had never happened. I would have thought it never did, except that I still felt a weight on my chest, the weight of utter confusion.

But soon that weight was removed and replaced with anger when our subscriptions to _The Daily Prophet_ arrived. And honestly, there's nothing like collective anger towards a deserving cause to bring people together.

That stuck-up cow (I love British slang) Rita Skeeter thought it was a good idea to publish an article about how Hagrid was a half-giant. George was the first to get the paper, and he read the whole article to us. It was absolutely ridiculous! I didn't believe a word of it. First of all, ew, how on earth could a human and a giant have a child? Second, why would it even matter if he was? So by the time my copy of the _Prophet_ arrived, I was so angry that I cancelled my subscription. I had no need for Rita's articles.

Before I knew it, breakfast was over and I began making my way to my first class, Care of Magical Creatures. It struck me that maybe Hagrid would have been affected by the article, but I didn't have time to think about it before Hermione walked up next to me.

"So, are you going to do it?" she asked, startling me.

"Do what?"

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Tell who what?" I asked, though my cheeks went red with realization.

"Don't play stupid, Lish. Dreams usually mean something, just not what that Trelawney woman says they do. That, and that I see you're on speaking terms with Fred again _and_ that Ron seems to think that he likes you _AND_ -and most importantly - what I hear happened at the Ball. Are you sure it isn't time to just be out with it?"

I was utterly shocked. " _First_ of all, Ron is an insensitive piece of garbage, and if it wasn't for him, that Ball would have ended on a much happier note for both of us. _Second_ , who are you to tell me that I should tell him I like him, who are you to give reasons why he'll accept me? You're the one who refuses to accept her own feelings for Ron. We all know it."

"I do not fancy Ron!" she shouted, before her momentary lack of composure was replaced by her usual almost superior tone. "But anyway, you admit that you think something would have happened had it not been for Harry and Ron, so who's to say it still can't?" I opened my mouth to protest, but she silenced me. "You said it was Valentine's Day in the dream. That's next month. I say you start planning."

Unable to find words enough to express the intense mix of emotions I was experiencing, I sank into a sulking silence, and we walked like that the rest of the way to Hagrid's cabin.

 

The next month was a haze of slowly building nerves, an ever-tightening knot in my stomach. I had planned on ignoring Hermione's 'advice,' but I couldn't stop it from nagging at the back of my head, distracting me from everything: from the fact that I was on speaking terms with Fred again all the way to Hagrid's week-long absence from his lessons. It didn't help that Hermione and Ginny (who was - as always - in cahoots with her) dropped daily reminders of the upcoming date. I tried to tell them off, I tried to remain my normal "don't-tell-me-how-to-live-my-life" self, I really did. But one day, about a week before Valentine's Day, I just couldn't take it anymore. Under the combined force of annoyance and acceptance, I cracked. I shouted at the pair of them: "Alright! I'll do it! Are you happy now?" startling the first years in the common room. And then I couldn't back out of it.

 

Finally, after seemingly an eternity, Valentine's Day rolled around. I didn't sleep the night before and the tight knot in my stomach didn't go away with a shower, breakfast, random chatting... Classes crawled by; I was both extremely aware of and highly distracted from everything that went on around me. How could I focus, knowing what I had to do later in the day?

Eventually classes were over. My nerves had built so much that after the last class, when Snape dismissed us, I dropped all of my books on the floor and ran all the way from the dungeons to my bed, where I buried myself under the covers, vowing never to leave again. It was only the combined force of Hermione and Ginny twenty minutes later that pried me from the blankets' warm embrace.

"Come," Ginny said, after successfully having caused me to become a trembling pile on the floor. She took my hand and violently pulled me up. "We're doing this now. And if you don't do it willingly, I'll find a proper curse to _force_ you to."

I had no choice but to obey. She led me down to the common room (he wasn't there), to the Great Hall (he wasn't there), and finally to the tree by the Great Lake. Surprisingly, he wasn't there.

"Well, that's lucky of you," Ginny said. "If it was the same as the dream - of course Hermione told me about the dream, Lish, don't give me that look. If it was the same as the dream, he wouldn't fancy you back. Now, go be a good Gryffindor and find him yourself." She pat my back and walked off.

More to prove that I was a Gryffindor than anything else (I was very easily blackmailed like that back then), I continued my task alone. It took another ten minutes, but I finally ran into him, ironically in the same hallway where he asked me to the Yule Ball.

"Hey Lish!" he called out, intending to continue walking.

"Oh - hey, Fred," I said nervously. My nerves must have shown, because he frowned in concern and stopped walking.

"What's the matter? You look terrified."

"That's because I am," I said.

"Why would that be?" he asked, smiling warmly and grabbing onto my wrists. "Merlin, you're as cold as ice."

"Actually it's Lish, but I get that a lot. Ya know... powerful wizard... Sorry, bad joke." I cleared my throat. "Actually, I wanted to tell you something."

For a split second, his grip on my wrists tightened, and I became aware of a chorus of " _Don't do it don't do it don't do it_ " playing like a broken record through my mind. But then I remembered Ginny's "be a good Gryffindor" and that saying every teenage girl's heard - "if he doesn't like you, it's his loss not yours" - and decided to be out with it.

I took a deep breath and said, "It was me who gave you that watch. I have a crush on you." _Don't just say that, you idiot,_ my head screamed at me. "Actually, a pretty desperate crush, if you can believe it, haha." _Okay, now Lish shut up._ I listened to myself.

What happened next, I'll remember to my dying day. Fred's face lit up, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. He said he fancied me too, and we planned a date for the next Hogsmeade weekend. Months later, we realized we were deeply in love, we got married in my fifth year, and lived happily ever after. Thus my story is over. Good bye, thanks for reading, the end.

No.

Not what happened, obviously.

It would have been too lucky to be _my_ life if I got what I wanted by suffering so little for it.

Here's what really happened: Fred said something along the lines of "Oh," and dropped my wrists; mortified that I had said what I said, my cheeks flushed red; after holding eye contact for a split second, I turned tail and ran as fast as I could in the direction of the common rooms.

I was only stopped by literally ramming into Ernie Macmillan, who didn't move out of my way fast enough, and toppling to the floor. "Lish!" he exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

"Physically, mentally, or socially?" I asked, rubbing the wrist which broke my fall.

"Well - all three, I guess." He grabbed my uninjured arm and helped me up.

"Physically - okay, but my wrist hurts a little. Mentally - traumatized for life. Socially - I just made a disgrace of myself and need to go hide in my bed and never come out again."

"Well- um-"

"Sorry for burdening you with this; I know we haven't exactly been talking for long-" we had only really started talking after we danced together at the Yule Ball "-but I'm just in a bit of a state of distress right now."

"Don't apologize," he said earnestly (get it?). "I totally understand. Would you mind answering a question, though, before you go hide for all eternity?"

I grinned, my blush finally beginning to fade. "Sure, what is it?"

"I'm a bit ashamed of myself, because I never actually thanked you for dancing with me at the ball."

"You don't have to thank me! I enjoyed it!"

"Still, I want to, especially since you're the only girl I danced with who wasn't my friend before the ball and is now. There's a Hogsmeade weekend a week after the second task; would you like to join me for some butterbeer and ice cream? Completely platonically, of course - you're with Fred Weasley, right?"

My face went red again. "No, and I never will be."

"Oh. Sorry for assuming. Still, completely platonically. Do you want to?"

"Uh- sure?" I said, overwhelmed.

"Excellent! I'll save the date!" Ernie smiled, then walked off.

I continued to the common room at a much slower pace than before the strange encounter. Sure, Ernie was nice and sure, now that my nerves had died down I remembered that we _had_ been talking a lot since the Ball, but this was still both abrupt and unexpected. Before, the only thought in my head had been " _What the hell did I just do???"_ Now it changed to this:

_What the hell just happened?_


	15. "Ice Cream and Butterbeer"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I have finally reached the end of all the chapters I have written so far, so don't expect updates as regularly. (Yes, I say this with full knowledge of my four-month-long absence, but I just mean- ugh, you get the picture. Even though I am no longer disappeared off the face of the earth, I will probably not be publishing once a week anymore.) Thanks for reading!

_**Fred:** _

I really wanted to punch myself. Or hold my breath until I passed out. Or jump into the freezing Great Lake. Why was I so bloody _stupid_ _?_ Why didn't I have the guts to tell Lish that I fancied her back, and bother what George thought? I was _such_ and idiot.

I'd been heading to the common room, but since Lish ran in that direction, I knew I couldn't go there right away. But I also had so much homework to do... an entire essay for McGonagall... I couldn't afford to waste any more time getting started, and my books were in my dorm. I gave Lish another five minutes and then began trudging up the stairs.

When I got to the common room, I found that it was empty except for George. He looked up at me.

"Hullo, Fred!" he said cheerfully. "You have any idea what's wrong with Lish? She ran through here looking like she spent the past hour taking some skrewts for a walk."

"I can't say I know what you mean," I said, forcing a laugh but feeling my stomach clench in a knot.

"You could see it in her eyes," he said knowingly, like a veterinarian examining a unicorn's mouth. "She was a mess."

I was silent for a moment. "George, can I ask you something?"

I must have sounded sincere, because he sat up straight from his sprawled out position on one of the couches. "Anything, Fred."

"Um..." My mouth was dry. I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell him Lish fancied me, I couldn't take away what I myself said he could have. "How much do you think Hagrid had to pay her to get her to walk the skrewts?"

And like that, my last opportunity for a long while was gone.

 

A few weeks later was the second task. It was undoubtedly much more boring than the first, because we couldn't see anything that was going on and were thus basically sitting in the stands staring at a lake for an hour. Lish, of course, didn't sit with George and me but instead with Neville, Luna, Ginny, and the Hufflepuffs from fourth year. This struck me as odd, because I'd never seen Lish talk to her year's Hufflepuffs in a more-than-just-acquaintance way.

 

Two weeks after the second task was a Hogsmeade weekend. In the past, it had always been Lish, George, and me all going together and pulling pranks, or robbing Honeydukes, or trying to sneak into the Shrieking Shack, but now there was no Lish. By this time, I was sure that George noticed something was up between the two of us, because we wouldn't talk to each other and Lish was now completely avoiding Gryffindor Table, always sitting with Amber instead at Ravenclaw. And now she wasn't here with us. Ginny had told us in the common room (under torture, of course) that she was indeed in Hogsmeade, but she wouldn't give up where she was going, or what she was doing there without us.

After confronting Ludo Bagman once again in The Three Broomsticks, George and I had nothing to do with ourselves, and he proposed that we should do a full sweep of Hogsmeade to find her. I really didn't want to, but I was forced to agree lest George get even more suspicious. We asked around a bit to no prevail, and checked every nook and cranny of every shop.

Thirty minutes later we found her. And my heart dropped into my stomach. We saw her through the window of a little ice cream parlor, sitting across from the Hufflepuff Ernie Macmillan. She was laughing, so hard that she was wiping tears from her eyes. And the way he was looking at her made my blood boil, like she was the best thing since flying broomsticks and that making her laugh was the greatest achievement of his life. Then he noticed me standing there and his face lost some of its mirth. We stared at each other, my face going red, and George looked back and forth between us. I grabbed his arm and dragged him away.

"Let's go," I said harshly.

"What's that about? What's Lish doing with Ernie Macmillan? And what is _with you?"_ George asked, rapid-fire. I didn't answer. "Is there something you're not telling me? Does this happen to have anything to do with that day a while ago when Lish was really distressed? Wait- Fred- that was Valentine's Day. What _happened_ between you?"

"Nothing!" I said a bit too loudly. "I'm going back to Hogwarts. I need some time alone." I began walking away.

"Fred, if there's anything you want to talk about, anything you want to tell me, you know I'm happy to help, right?"

"Of course, George." I turned my back on him and made my way back towards the castle alone.

 

_**Lish:** _

"So, should we bring the ice cream to the butterbeer place, or the butterbeer to the ice cream place?" Ernie asked. We were standing in the middle of the Main Street of Hogsmeade; the Three Broomsticks was somewhere to our right, and the ice cream parlor was somewhere to our left. Although Ernie had promised that our little ice-cream-and-butterbeer excursion would be completely, 100% platonic, I still felt awkward and exposed standing with him, as if I was betraying Fred. I told myself over and over to shut up. Fred didn't have feelings for me. I could do whatever I wanted. And even if he _did_ like me, I was still allowed to have male friends. I was as close to Neville as almost any of my female friends, and of course there were Harry and Ron and George... what made Ernie any different?

"Butterbeer to the ice cream place should do."

"Excellent choice," Ernie responded with a grin. We made our way to The Three Broomsticks. "If you want, you can wait out here and I'll pick up some bottles."

I was about to say okay, but then I saw two red flashes out of the corner of my eye. "Uh, no, I think I'd better come in with you." We walked in together.

Ernie ordered four bottles of butterbeer to go, refused to let me pay for my own, then steered me (still yelling at him to let me pay) back out into the street and towards the ice cream shop. We ordered ice cream (he didn't let me pay) and sat down by the window.

"So, are you excited for the third task?" I asked.

He let out a tight laugh. "With Potter trying to steal all the glory from Hufflepuff? Certainly."

"Harry trying to steal the glory from Hufflepuff? Seriously? You really think that's the case?"

"Well, yes." He seemed shocked that I didn't think the same. "Famous Harry Potter is always striving for attention. Every year, he fights You-Know-Who, and then plays the hurt little hero, and then fights him again. It's all for attention. I know exactly what he's doing. The way he indulges that Rita Skeeter woman, it's disgusting."

I didn't know whether to be angry at Ernie or sorry for him. He seemed to really believe what he was saying. I laughed. "Ernie, you're killing me. Everyone says how smart you are; how can your judgment be this far off? I've known Harry for a year and a half, and I already know that he _hates_ his fame. If he could make that scar go away, he would. He wants to be invisible, not The Boy Who Lived. And my lord, you should have seen how scared he was when his name was pulled out of that Goblet."

"But-"

"But think about this: Dumbledore said it would take a really Dark or powerful wizard to trick the Goblet. This Goblet has been used for hundreds of years to pick students for the Tournament. You would think that it wouldn't be able to be fooled into thinking that there are four wizards in the _Tri_ wizard tournament, right? Do you think that Harry Potter of _all_ wizards would be able to do that kind of sorcery?"

"But Alisha-"

"And think about this: who wants Harry done away with? _Voldemort._ And what would be a really easy way to do away with Harry? Maybe putting him in a dangerous tournament that was discontinued due to the crippling death toll! Then Voldy wouldn't even have to deal with Harry himself. Then Harry could just be barbecued by a dragon, or ripped apart by angry mermaids, or... whatever the last task is gonna be. It makes horrible and perfect sense."

"I... wow Alisha that does make a lot of sense."

"I hear that in second year, you thought that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin. You eventually realized that you were wrong, right? I'm telling you, Harry is the most humble celebrity I know. He might be impossible at times, but he really doesn't want any more attention. He wants rest from adventure. He'd never put himself into a situation like this."

Ernie nodded. "You're right. But that doesn't explain Rita Skeeter."

I laughed. "Rita Skeeter! You're a pureblood, I would think you'd know about her. What comes out on that woman's parchment is nothing but lies. Remember that article about Amber and me earlier in the year? That was one lie after the other. Not a word of truth in it. I don't know how she isn't fired yet."

"She just... lies?'

"Not a _word_ of truth," I repeated.

"I guess I need to cancel my _Daily Prophet_ subscription then," he said.

"That was my late Christmas gift to them. I'm sure they enjoyed it."

He stirred his ice cream around with his spoon. "So what's going on with you and Fred?"

I almost spit out my butterbeer. "Way to kill the mood!" I went red. "Not that there was a mood. No mood, whatsoever. Um. Nothing. Meaning, nothing's going on between me and Fred. We're, um, friends. Yes."

"Mmmhmm."

"Seriously! Or, well, I don't know whether or not we're friends anymore, but we're certainly nothing more than friends. Never have been, never will be."

"But do you _want_ to be?"

"What? No! Of course not."

"Okay." He dropped it, thank the gods. "So how are you tackling that essay for McGonagall?"

I groaned. "Don't make me think about it." The essay was supposed to be five whole feet on the transfiguration of humans to the size and general appearance of fairies. We wouldn't be actually _doing_  human configuration until NEWT level, but McGonagall wanted us to have as much theory under our belt as possible. "I'm probably just gonna leave it off until the last night and then stay up until five in the morning."

"Wise strategy." He rolled his eyes. "I'm actually looking forward to writing it. McGonagall got me quite excited, since when she said 'fairies,' I heard 'ferrets,' just for a second, if you know what I mean."

And did I crack up at that! Ferrets were basically the only things I had been able to think about ever since the first week of school, causing me to randomly burst into laughter in the most inconvenient of times, such as in the middle of class or at night when the dorm was dead quiet. I could never help myself at the thought, and soon there were tears of mirth streaming down my face. What he had said wasn't even that funny; I had no idea why I was laughing so hard. But I was, and he was giving me that amused look that said 'I don't know why you're laughing so hard, but I'll roll with it.' It was five whole minutes before I could control myself again, but when I looked back at Ernie, there was a darker look on his face.

"What?" I asked, wiping tears from my eyes.

"Nothing, " he replied, putting a smile back on his face. But it was more troubled than before. I was too distracted to _really_ notice.

"Were you there when Moody turned him into the ferret? Or did you hear second hand? Because if you weren't actually there, Merlin did you miss something..."

Our conversation stayed light for the next hour, long after we had finished our ice cream and butterbeer. When we finally decided it was time to go, the two of us walked back to the castle together. As we walked, our hands accidentally brushed a few times, but I found that I didn't really mind that much.

 

_**Fred:** _

I was sitting in the common room, sulking. That short, blonde, plump little _Hufflepuff_ trying to steal _my_ Lish. It just wasn't fair. Curse him. Curse her. Curse-

The portrait hole opened, and Lish climbed in. She had a look of absolute content on her face, like she was totally at peace. I hadn't seen her look that happy since about her third year.

"Someone has quite the glow about them today," I commented out loud, before I could stop myself.

She then saw me, and narrowed her eyes, and stuck her nose in the air. It was a very Hermione look, and I absolutely despised it on her. "What's it to you?" she responded, and kept walking.

_Oh, Lish. If you only knew what it was to me._

 

The next morning at breakfast, I was in a surprisingly good mood. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I had gotten a good night's sleep that had wiped away all thoughts of Lish and the Hufflepuff. She hadn't come down yet, but I was saving a seat next to myself for her. Because hell, even if I knew she fancied me, that didn't mean she couldn't still be my friend.

And there she was. The ethereal glow about her seemed to have amplified overnight. My good mood wavered, but I tried to stay positive. I raised my hand to beckon her over, but then stopped. She was already making her way over to another part of the Great Hall. She sat down next to Ernie Macmillan. My hand dropped to the table.

 

I don't think that one day that week she sat anywhere but the Hufflepuff Table.

 

_**Lish:** _

"Is it ready yet? Is it ready yet?"

"Patience, Alisha. One cannot brew a potion as advanced as this without a bit of patience."

"But is it ready yet?"

Snape sighed. "Yes, Alisha. It is ready."

I whooped and pumped the air with my fist. "And is it good? Is it effective? Did I do it right?"

"It's perfect, Alisha."

"Awesome! Can I see it?"

"Only if you promise not to do what you did with the Draught of Living Death." A pause. "I've been meaning to ask you: how did you do that? How did you get the Draught so weak, yet still so effective?"

Did I expect him not to know it was me? I guess deep down I did. What a ridiculous thing to think. "I don't know, I just played around with it a bit. I lowered the amount of wormwood drastically. I think that's what gives it its power. Lowering the Asophodel root also worked, but not as much as the wormwood. And I found that adding just one little shaving off a bezoar helped. Adding any more makes it as effective as water. I tested it on animals I transfigured from stuff. Then I made the dose proportional, based on size, heart rate, whatever. I snuck into their dorms in the form of a bird and- What?"

"You did this all in less than a week?"

"Well, yeah. Why?"

"Why are you in Gryffindor? You should be in Ravenclaw. Or Slytherin. Slytherin could use someone like you."

I didn't know what to say. I swear I saw Snape's lip curl into a tight smile as he turned and walked into his office. When he came back, he was levitation a cauldron full of shimmering pink liquid. Love potion.

"Ooo, it's so pretty," I cooed. Then I caught its scent, and my blood ran cold. It must have shown on my face, because Snape asked, "Alisha? What's wrong?"

Well, I hadn't been expecting this. But later, thinking about it, I would realize how silly of me that was. Of course, the potion smelled like ice cream and butterbeer.


	16. "Ernie Macmillan" -Lish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know I've been horrible again and haven't posted in an ungodly amount of time. But today, April 1st, is a very special day - which I shouldn't have to explain - so now I am. Please forgive me, once again, for my tardiness.

What do you do when the person who just became your near-best friend also just became your crush? That thought kept me up a few nights in a row. Obviously, whatever I had done with Fred didn't work but... what had I done with Fred? I didn't know... acted like just a friend? Never made a move of any sort until it was too late? Tried to hide it? 

Sure, all those things, but how did I know that any of them contributed to him not liking me back? What if I was just not a likable person?

You see, I wasn't exactly the best at reading people. So this wasn't the first time I was kept up thinking about things like these.

I began eating every meal with the Hufflepuffs. I couldn't help myself. Just like when I developed my crush on Fred the year before, I couldn't pull myself away from Ernie's side whenever I had the chance. I looked forward to Herbology every day we had it, and I would spend it practically glued to him. We would always be partners in group projects and help each other with homework and even meet up to walk to class together.

One day in Herbology, on the last day of classes before Easter break, Professor Sprout made a fateful announcement:

"As your joint homework for Herbology and Potions over the Easter holiday," she began with a mischievous smile, "we'll be playing a little game. The fourth years will join in groups of two - that you choose - and you will use your research skills and knowledge of what you've learned in the two classes to create an original potion, using only ingredients found in these greenhouses. The group who makes the most useful potion according the the four Heads of House and Dumbledore, who will judge anonymously, will have their lowest test grade so far in either of the two subjects turned into an O, and if their potion is deemed to be a marvel of ingenuity by the judges, they will receive a school award. The project grade itself will be a completion grade. The finished product will be due the day before Easter - a week from tomorrow - and will consist of three vials of your potion and a report on your recipe, the properties of the potion, and anything else you feel the judges need to know."

There was a sudden buzz of voices. "So it's a competition!" Ron said excitedly.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, and one with a very substantial prize."

Well, if it was a competition, I knew exactly who I would need to help me win it. I turned to Hermione. "Hermione, will you be my partner?"

(Harry and Ron, the stupid whelps, had already teamed up together instead of asking the most brilliant girl in the school, and nobody else was yet jumping at her, so I had Hermione all to myself.) "Sure, Lish!"

"Wait!" Professor Sprout said. All the excited chatter died down. "One rule I forgot: You cannot pair with someone from your own House. One Hufflepuff and one Gryffindor per team, or, if you feel so inclined, you can pair with a Ravenclaw or Slytherin, who will hear about the competition later this afternoon."

Everyone started talking again. "Hey, Alisha! Would you like to team up with me?"

It was, of course, Ernie. He was one of the few people who still called me Alisha (excepting a few times at the beginning of our relationship).

I couldn't help myself. "Of course, Ernie! We will _annihilate_  these amateurs!" We high-fived.

 

Immediately after class was over, Ernie and I started making plans.

"So," he said, as we were walking back to the castle, "the only teams we'll really have to worry about are Hermione and whomever she's with, and Neville and whomever he's with. Other than them, it's a smooth path to victory."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Neville is great at Herbology, and Hermione is the most intelligent person in the school; they're the only ones that should pose us a problem. You're the second smartest after Hermione, and I don't like to brag, but people say that I'm smart too. Together, we should be enough to take them." He quickly took my hand and squeezed it, making me blush.

"There's also Amber and Malfoy. You know they'll team up, and both Amber and - though I hate to admit it - Malfoy are pretty smart. Thankfully, she'll probably stop him from sabotaging anyone. Which is great, because my lowest grade is a T on a Potions test, which didn't make Snape very happy with me."

"Good point," he agreed. "All we have to do is beat the three of them. So we need a game plan. I'm thinking we first ought to take stock of all the plants in all the greenhouses so that we know what we have to work with, then do some research on them in the library."

"And then if we find something interesting, mark it down and we'll look at it later. I'd just like to know what she means by 'useful.' There are a lot of ways that I potion can be useful."

"Perhaps she expects us to cure cancer."

"D'you think we could do that?" I asked excitedly.

Ernie laughed. "Why don't we aim just a hair lower, Alisha."

"Alright. So then once we have an idea, we go down to the greenhouses and get as much of our chosen plants as we think we need, then head to the dungeons to start experimenting."

"Easy as pie," Ernie concluded.

After classes ended for the break, Ernie and I went down to the greenhouses with several rolls of parchment and quills and made lists of every plant available. Then we ate dinner quickly in a secluded corner so as not to be slowed down by the conversations of others and ran to the library to research. Hermione and Padma and Amber and Malfoy were already there before us. We got to work.

 

"Perhaps we could try curing constipation?" I suggested, examining a page dedicated to a plant whose only magical property was that it held more water than was physically possible. Why anyone cared about it, I really didn't know.

"Great suggestion; why don't we put it aside for later?" Ernie yawned. He, like myself, was half asleep.

It was late Tuesday night, or perhaps early Wednesday morning by then. We hadn't found anything useful yet, despite the fact that both of the other two teams hadn't come back to the library that night, implying that they had already found what they were looking for. We'd been there all day - we'd even eaten our meals there and slept sprawled on the tables the night before. Ernie had a growing pile of searched books next to him, some pages in them marked, but he didn't say anything about them so I guessed they weren't important.

"Alisha!" he suddenly exclaimed, grabbing my hand across the table.

I forced myself to stay calm, breathe, not to blush, and to respond, "Yes?"

"I got it!" he said. "Come, look!"

I maneuvered around the table and sat next to him. He pointed to a plant in a book, then pulled out the bottom book in his pile and opened it to a marked page. "If we combine them..."

A grin spread across my face. "Do you think we could pull it off?"

"I think we could."

"Oh, Ernie, you're a genius."

 

It turns out, Ernie marked a lot of plants that he thought we could use in our concoction. After spending another good hour making notes, we fell asleep in the library. Early the next morning, we practically flew down to the greenhouses to get started, startling Neville and Hannah who were sleeping there. I instructed Ernie to grab some plants and put them in bags; I knew the perfect place for the potion-making.

We sprinted back up to the castle, then down to the dungeon. At a heavy wooden door, I paused. "Stand over there," I told Ernie, gesturing to somewhere out of immediate sight of the door. I cracked it open.

"Who's there?" a sleepy voice called from inside. Oops. I hadn't realized how early it was, especially for break.

"It's Lish," I called. "I was wondering if I could use your office to make the potion for your project."

"It's not  _my_ project," Snape grumbled, loud enough to be heard.

"Of course it's your project too, Sev'rus. Professor Sprout said it was a joint assignment. That's why you didn't give any homework over the break. Did you think I would think it was out of the kindness of your heart?"

The door swung open, revealing Snape standing in the doorway. His hair was unruly and he had the look of sleep in his eye. I hate to say it was cute, but, well, it was kinda cute.

"This one time, Dacey," he said. "You owe me one."

"Oh, thanks, Sev!" I said melodramatically. He began walking down the hall. "Oh, and do you mind if my partner comes in too?" He waved his hand dismissively, not even looking back. "Thanks!"

Ernie and I entered. "Wow," he said. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You- and Professor Snape..?"

"We go way back," I said, although technically we didn't even go as far back as he and Ernie. "We're great friends."

Ernie looked at me strangely, but didn't comment. I led him into the familiar office, got a cauldron from the classroom, and we began to work. It was hard work: lots of random experimentation, explosions, and, subsequently, burns. We went two whole days, hardly stopping for bathroom breaks, without even noticing it. We slept in the office. I didn't know where Snape went.

It was Friday before we got desirable results. In fact, on Friday we made the potion perfectly. We shut off the fire under the cauldron and stirred in the last ingredient. Within a few seconds, the potion seemed to vanish. 

Ernie and I stared at each other, eyes wide. We grinned, and high-fived. "Great work, team!" I exclaimed. "Let's try it out. You go first, since it was your idea."

In hindsight, it was quite obvious that we should have transfigured something into an animal and tried it on that first, but we were both high on our victory and didn't want any animal to have the honor of testing it before ourselves. Ernie took a spoon, dipped it into the invisible liquid, and swallowed some of the stuff. there was a pause. Then, I noticed it. What I could see of his arms and hands vanished. So, too, did his neck and his head. He became just a floating Hogwarts uniform in Snape's office.

His uniform's arms rose as if he was looking at his hands. "WICKED!"

I laughed, grabbed a spoon, and swallowed some myself. Within moments I vanished. "Awesome!" I said.

Suddenly, I realized something. "Oh no, Ernie. We've made a horrible mistake." I could see Ernie's face again, and his eyes widened with realization. "The report," we said together, just as I became visible as well.

We hadn't done anything! We hadn't written down how we managed to brew the potion! Who knew if we would be able to do it again?

We rushed to put down everything that we remembered. I can't tell you readers how the potion is made, or even what's in it, because, frankly, it still accounts for a great part of my income and only a select few trustworthy people know the recipe. I can't have anyone stealing it. There must have been just a couple things we couldn't remember, because despite being certain we were doing the same thing, we couldn't get the potion right on the next few tries. Soon it was late into the night. We were getting desperate. The potion was due the next day, to be turned in to Professor Sprout at the first greenhouse.

Needless to say, we didn't sleep that night. Nor did we eat breakfast or lunch the next day. But we didn't realize how tired or starving we were. We had discovered something genius, and we weren't having it taken away from us by our own stupidity.

At about 5:00 pm on Saturday, after over 24 hours straight of work, we did it right. And - thank Merlin - we wrote it all down. We tested it one more time following the recipe, just to be sure. Then we got out a fresh piece of parchment and wrote everything down: the recipe, the properties, anything we could think of. And its name? "Dacey-Macmillan Invisibility Potion."

We put some of the potion in vials, grabbed our report, and sprinted to the greenhouse. Amber and Malfoy were there, handing Professor Sprout their concoction. Malfoy sneered at me as they walked past us.

We were next. Professor Sprout looked at us strangely when we gave her our seemingly empty vials. "Is this a joke, Macmillan?" she asked.

"Read the paper," he said with a sly smile.

She did, and her eyes widened. "Seriously? Are you sure?"

"That's for you to judge," Ernie said. We left her behind us, looking incredulous.

Ernie and I walked to the castle, finally feeling our hunger weigh down on us. Our stomachs growled in harmony. We laughed. We went to the Great Hall to eat an early dinner, and surprisingly nobody was there. I can't remember exactly what was said during that meal; all I can remember is that, by the end of it, we were holding hands unabashedly across the table. It was kinda awkward when we had to stand up, because we had to let go of each other's hands to get rid of our plates and pick up our bags, and then didn't know whether or not to join hands again when walking. We didn't.

He walked me all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, even though the Hufflepuff dorm was in the opposite direction. When we got there, we stopped. "Thank you, Ernie," I said.

"For what?"

"Just, everything. That project was so fun to do with you. Despite all the lack of sleep and food, I don't know how this week could have gone any better."

I was in fact thinking that I now knew for certain one thing that could have made the week even better, when Ernie kissed me. No joke! It was tentative and uncertain and slightly awkward (not that I had any right to judge), and he was a couple inches shorter than me. It was nothing super romantic as I always imagined a first kiss with anyone, but, somehow, it was perfect in that moment.

We didn't break apart for a few seconds, until we were interrupted by a huge _CRASH!_ a few yards behind me. I spun around and saw - you guessed it - Fred, hastily picking up his books which he had dropped to the floor. His face was red, and he didn't make eye contact as he pushed in between us to get to the portrait hole. He said the password and climbed through the door.

"That  _stupid_ boy," I muttered, then said to Ernie, "I have to go take care of this." I caught the portrait door before it closed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ernie."

Making sure the door was completely shut behind me, I prepared myself to face what I knew was coming. But Fred wasn't in the common room. Nearly nobody was, only a few first- and second-years doing homework, peacefully oblivious to the complications of inter-year and inter-House social circles. I sighed, once again reminded of how much the past few days had wiped me out. How was I going to survive the fight with Fred I knew was going to happen, eventually? I was too tired for this.


End file.
